My Brother's Keeper
by mickeiblue
Summary: AUfuturefic.BLfamily.s1-6count. They all have their roles; Brooke, the determined mother. Lucas, the passive father. Sawyer, the rebellious daughter. Keith, the dying son. Abby, the girl who holds them all together - until now.
1. Runaway Train

**disclaimer: I do not own anything, this fanfic is a one tree hill adaption of jodi picoults novel 'my sisters keeper', the plot is hers and all medical and law info is taken straight from the book and a lot of the medical stuff is taken word for word, caus hey i am no doctor.**

**hey peoples, this is my latest fanfic and its a fun one to write.i wasnt going to update it til i had finished Love and Infatuation but seeing that is so close to the end and i wont be flashforwarding to the twins birth weekend (unless i get more people voting for me to do that on my profile page) the way LNI is going it shoudl be finished within a month so i decided that i would in fact start posting this. so i hope you like this first glimpse into 'my brothers keeper'. things you need to know, everything and i mean everything up to the end of season 6 has happened to get to this point, anything that happens in season 7 when it comes has no imput into the fanfic. the ending is undecided, so anyone who has read the book or seen the movie, well the ending is still in debate so anything could happen, and to all those who havent you totally should. the fic will get more and more different to the book as it goes on, enjoy. and remember, believe in the possibilities even when life is giving us every reason not to believe. luv mickei b **

_Call you up in the middle of the night__  
__Like a firefly without a light__  
__You were there like a blowtorch burning__  
__I was a key that could use a little turning _

_So tired that I couldn't even sleep__  
__So many secrets I couldn't keep__  
__I promised myself I wouldn't weep__  
__One more promise I couldn't keep _

_It seems no one can help me now,__  
__I'm in too deep; there's no way out__  
__This time I have really led myself astray _

_Runaway train, never going back__  
__Wrong way on a one-way track__  
__Seems like I should be getting somewhere__  
__Somehow I'm neither here nor there _

_Can you help me remember how to smile?__  
__Make it somehow all seem worthwhile__  
__How on earth did I get so jaded?__  
__Life's mystery seems so faded _

_I can go where no one else can go__  
__I know what no one else knows__  
__Here I am just a-drownin' in the rain__  
__With a ticket for a runaway train_

_-x-_

Chapter One

_*Abby*_

At school today we learnt more about the reproductive system and how babies are created, but the how isn't what really interest me. My sister, Sawyer, covered that lesson years ago. It's the _why _behind the creation that I'm curious about.

Is the pregnancy a result of failed contraception, a lucky accident because the condom broke or the parents are in that minor percentage of failure? Like my sister, who was conceived not long after my dad and her mom got back together, a complete unplanned surprise they grinned over, but the 'happy ending' was not what dad focused on when he gave us that safe sex isn't a guarantee speech and abstinence is the best fool proof contraception.

Or maybe it's the result of a little too much to drink and the mommy and daddy getting carried away, not to unlike how my brother got to being here. Another happy accident, Mom is quick to tell the story of grabbing a bottle of champagne and dad by the collar before sneaking him out of their own wedding reception. A little over nine months later Keith was born.

Seems to me that most pregnancies are unplanned accidents whether it's two teenagers or a married couple with one already, I on the other hand was the furthest thing from an accident that you can get and I know exactly why I am here.

My parents chose me - literally. But not like some parents choose a baby to adopt, no, my parents went to a doctor and together they created options, and I was the one with all the right boxes ticked, so here I am. If it wasn't for my brother the idea of me would have never existed, there's no probably about it, the possibility of me would have still been floating up there in heaven or whatever, waiting to be born into some family, and not the one which already had the perfect boy and girl they always wanted.

See, I was born for a specific purpose - to save my brother's life.

Keith has acute promyelocytic leukemia, APL. Actually, that isn't strictly true, at the moment Keith doesn't have it and he's in remission. Which basically means it's still there hibernating under his skin like a bear, and it could roar awake at any time. We've been here before. He was diagnosed at two; he's fifteen now.

Molecular relapse and granulocyte and portacath – these words are a part of my vocabulary, even though I will never find them on any SAT but in my family there are few words that are more important to know and understand.

Where do I fit into this medical lecture? I am the allogeneic donor, in other words the perfect sibling match. Which is the reason behind my conception, and when your parents have you for a reason then that reason better exist because once its gone so are you, isn't that the way it goes. Count that out and you're gone, no longer needed.

When Keith needs leukocytes or stem cells or bone marrow to fool his body into thinking it's the average healthy kids, well I am the one who supplies them. Nearly every time Keith is hospitalised I end up there too, with how much time my family is there they should name a wing after us. The irony in the situation, I have never been sick in my life, not even a cold.

…

Desperation makes us do things we normally wouldn't do and we end up in a situation or place and we look around and suddenly it's like _what am I doing _but being so desperate we keep on going along with it, because there isn't an option that's any better.

I wonder how many desperate people have looked up to find they're standing where I am, holding a prized possession they never imagined getting rid of in this lifetime. Pawnshops must get lots of desperate people, like whoever would hand in that teddy bear missing an eye. Everyone with their own story, but I doubt any of them were driven here for the same reason I am.

The guy at the counter doesn't even look at me, "I have something to sell"

"Am I meant to guess what it is?" he shoots back, and I'm not lying when I say I almost stopped this right here and now, and I have to dig my nails into my palms to stop from running away, but instead of leaving I slip off the charm bracelet and place it on the counter, still holding onto it. Except for showers I haven't taken it off since I was six when my dad gave it to me after the bone marrow harvest saying that someone giving their brother such a precious gift deserved one of their own. I feel naked without the heaviness around my wrist. Naked being the only other time I've ever not worn it.

"I'll give you fifty" he says, and on the inside my body screams in outrage "_dollars?"_

He nods and I pick the charm bracelet up, each delicate charm representing some moment in my life, the majority from the times they've used me to help Keith "but it's practically new and barely been worn" total lies, but I guess I better practice my lying, but clearly I've failed. It has to be worth more than that, surely.

"Fifty, take it or leave it"

And like many desperate people before me I take it. He seems kind of disappointed in me but I just look down as he hands me the money and as I turn away I hear him say "just tell them you lost it" I wonder if after all this time he still wonders about the stories behind the objects handed over to him or if he even cares about why people do what they do anymore.

When I get home I dig my hands deep into my pockets and hurry upstairs, straight into my mom as she steps out of her room "ah, there you are, just the Scott I was looking for" and her smile shows off her dimples. My mother has a natural beauty that no amount of stress or lack of sleep can fade out, with a little effort she could hit stunning but she hasn't put effort into how she looks for a long time, she doesn't really have the time to worry about her looks, she is too busy worrying about how Keith looks. So I know that the gorgeous dress she is wearing right now can't be for her, she twirls and spreads out her hands "what do you think?"

"You look..." and I stop, she looks tired.

Suddenly her head cocks to the side and her smile is gone, her dimples on show because her muscles are tensing in worry and thought, like they often do, "did you hear that?" she asks.

I didn't but I don't get a chance to answer because she's already walking away from me to go to my brother's room, and I follow.

Keith is lying on his bed with his head back into the pillow, tears running down his cheeks as he closes his eyes. Mom rushes to him, "Keith, sweetie, what hurts?"

I wait to be told what to do, for the instructions to call dad or 911, or both. But instead Keith opens his eyes and looks at us oddly as if he's wondering why we are standing in his room. He lifts up his slacked hand from his side and for the first time I see the open book in his hand "he's dead" Keith tells us.

"But what hurts?" Mom asks her voice quiet and confused. Keith's big brown eyes bulge out "he's dead, mom, after everything they've been through"

I let out the breath I'd been holding. The book I can recognise, last time I'd read it to Keith in hospital when he was too weak to do it himself, "made me cry too, but I'm a girl" and at my words Keith gives a small laugh. Mom manages to chuckle as well as the realisation that Keith is fine for the moment starts to allow relief to seep though her, and she leans forward over Keith and puts a hand to each of his cheeks before squeezing his thin face a bit and kissing his dark hair "that's my sweet boy" she whispers.

Mom leaves and its just the two of us, I plop myself onto the bed, picking up one of Keith's books, "don't you get sick of it?" and instantly it comes to me that his love for books is probably a blessing because half of the time its all he can do, it's not like Keith can just grab a basketball and join me at the court. I look at him, to see if I can read what he's thinking, I wonder sometimes what Keith doesn't tell us. He's always been so quiet, so quiet and still. This time I catch the wince of pain as he shuts his eyes tight like before, "you okay?"

"Fine" he mumbles. _Liar_, it's his kidney's, but I don't call him on it.

Hippocrates once wrote '_a wise man should consider that health is the greatest of human blessings, and learn how by his own thought to derive benefit from his illnesses.' _Sometimes I try to see the benefit, but when I look at our family I don't see the benefit this illness has given any of us, or any it could. Our family didn't need this lesson, every direction I look I just see another casualty from this disease, sometimes I think the rest of us are the biggest ones, not just Keith.

…

My father once told me that life is hard and chances are its only going to get harder not easier, we can either rise to meet the challenge or fall under the weight. If we fall, we might not ever pick ourselves up. I wonder now if what I'm doing is rising to it or running from it, or maybe I've already fallen and this is my attempt at trying to crawl my way back up. This is what I'm here for right, to help Keith? But what about everything else, what if helping my brother contradicts everything I want to do for myself. How do I decide what to do when the only thing I've ever known what to do is for him? I wish that life could be just black and white, like it has been so far, but somewhere along the way the shades between set in. As we get older we're forced to think for ourselves, and it's harder to just follow the rules.

So when Keith falls asleep from his meds I continue to lay there, next to my brother like I often do, he is so still and silent like always. It's scary, and I rest my head against his chest so I can feel the steady up and down to reassure me that he is still here. I use to do this a lot when I was little, and it's a habit I never grew out of.

But eventually all habits are broken.

I let him go and escape to my own room, going straight for the shoe box hidden in the back of my closet, pulling out the diary under all the old cards and photos. I hold it close to my chest, with a careful eye on my surroundings I make my way through the hallway to the bathroom where I can lock the door and shut out the world. I don't let go of my breath until I turn on the shower (to make it look like I'm in here for a reason) and then slide down onto the cool tiles of the floor.

The diary has a cheap lock, something a five year old could break but it still makes me feel safe and I know I can trust my family enough that how good the lock is doesn't matter because on just seeing it they won't even try to pry into my secrets. Privacy and trust, things I can depend on from my family, for now.

Keith bought me this diary, for my ninth birthday, things like this keep popping up in my head, and I almost don't open it up. But I do.

It's hollow, the pages cut to create a secret chest, and with the fifty dollars from today I now have four hundred and sixty seven dollars and fifty cents. For most twelve year olds I guess that is a fortune, but for me it's simply not enough. There has to be a way around it, Sawyer didn't have enough money to buy her beat up jeep but the bank gave her some kind of loan. Of course, Dad signed the papers and I doubt him or Mom would do the same for me given the circumstances. I count the money again, just in case some miracle has occurred and the money has magically tripled, but the same amount looks back up at me, almost mockingly.

…

To reach my sisters room you actually have to leave the house, which is exactly why Sawyer loves it. After graduating Sawyer wanted to feel more independent but wasn't really looking forward to the whole crappy dorm room she had to share with some freak stranger thing, and the parentals weren't looking forward to the Sawyer leaving thing, so as a compromise the room above the garage was transformed into a sort of apartment. One thing about my parents I guess, they fight to keep their children close by at all cost, and I guess I owe my life to that.

I walk slowly up the stairs to Sawyer's room, I can feel the vibrations from her music under my feet, it's so loud it feels like forever before she answers my knock, carefully opening the door so her blue eyes and blonde head pop out but you can't see inside "what?" she snaps, always her welcoming self.

"Can I come in?"

She seems to think twice about it before rolling her eyes and unlocking the door, all five locks. Sawyer has always liked to make it extra hard for the outside world to get her, but I feel privileged to be one of the few people she lets in, no matter how reluctant it is sometimes. Sawyer steps back and I enter, carefully tiptoeing around the room, it's a maze of dirty clothes and old take out boxes, and too many empty bottles to count, the only clean part of the room is her bed, which I sit on, and the perfectly organized shelves that hold her music, most of which she inherited from her birth mother, Peyton.

If Peyton Scott never died then my parents would have never gotten back together and had Keith, and if he was never born I wouldn't have been. I think about these sorts of things all the time, how one thing can change everything. I wonder how much Sawyer thinks about it.

"What do you want?" she cuts into my thoughts, knocking a pile of books off a chair so she can sit. I glance up at her, watching as she casually lifts the lighter to her mouth where what I'm pretty sure isn't a cigarette is waiting to be lit. When I don't answer she looks at me, she ignores my disapproving look and takes another puff, staring straight at me as if to say _what are you going to do about it?_ But Sawyer already knows I'm not going to do anything, "how do you know I want something, maybe I just wanted to say hi"

She scoffs, "Nobody comes up here for a social call, and if was something about Keith you would have already said something" and she takes another puff. Its not that she doesn't care, this is just how Sawyer is, how she copes, we all have our different ways.

"It _is _about Keith. Sort of" and I shove towards her the newspaper clippings I collected; they'll do a better job of explaining than I could at the moment. Sawyer scans them briefly, and immediately gets rid of the joint, grabbing the clippings with one hand as she opens a can of beer with the other. She takes a swig and offers me a swallow as she continues going through them, I shake my head and she shrugs before having some more. The can and another one is empty by the time she stops reading and looks me directly in the eye, "don't mess with the roles, Abby" she says bitterly "we've all got our scripts memorised. Keith plays the martyr. I'm the damaged goods. And you, you're the peacemaker"

She thinks she knows me, but that goes both ways and when it comes to friction Sawyer is an addict, craving the imperfections. I look right at her, "says who?"

…

Sawyer agrees to wait for me in the parking lot, it's one of the few times I can recall her doing what I tell her to do, Sawyer's not one to listen and obey. Reverse psychology has been how my parents have mostly handled her in all these years, most of the time she does it I think just because she doesn't want anyone to _think _that they can control her so even if she wants to do something she won't do it if you think it's what she should do. I guess its one of the few things she can control.

Coming to Charlotte seemed the best way to do this, that way hopefully no one who knows us will recognise me or Sawyer's dark jeep. But that doesn't stop me constantly looking around and feeling nervous, and when I walk onto that third floor and the secretary looks up at me with a frown my nerves skyrocket. Everything in this office is perfect; including the beauty behind the desk that I'm sure is wearing one of my mom's designs. So am I, it's a tight squeeze because I haven't worn this dress in over a year but it's the only presentable thing I own, I don't usually wear dresses or get the occasion to. This one is yellow, bright and cheerful, and when I had put it on and allowed my thick long dirty blonde hair to flow in waves down my back I thought I could pass for older, more mature, instead of a little girl maybe I could look like someone who had an idea of what I'm doing, but now I just feel awkward. It probably makes me look about ten years old, and my hair constantly getting in my face is pissing me off, not to mention the only shoes I had to wear with the outfit are my favourite sneakers that are scuffed from well use. I look down at my feet.

"May I help you?" the woman asks as she mentally goes over my appearance from head to toe, rating me on a general scale of first impressions and clearly finding me lacking, so I lift my chin and try to act far cooler than I am actually feeling "I have an appointment with Mr Baker at four o'clock"

"Your voice, on the phone you didn't sound quite so…" she stops and smiles uncomfortably but I hear it anyway, _young_, I didn't sound quite so young "… we don't try juvenile cases, as a rule. If you like I can offer you some names of practicing attorneys who-"

I take a deep breath, "actually-" I interrupt "-you're wrong. Smith Vs Whately, Edmunds Vs Womens and Infants Hospital, and Jerome Vs the Diocese of Providence, all involved litigants under the age of eighteen and _all _three resulted in verdicts for Mr Baker's clients. That was just the past _year_"

She blinks, I get this a lot, when I say something people don't expect me too, as if the fact that I am a child means I naturally know nothing. A slow smile creeps across her face and I feel just the bit braver, "come to think of it why don't you just wait in his office?" she suggests and stands up to show me the way.

The office is scarily neat and proper but the longer I wait and observe little things take my notice. Like how the cover of a ridiculous comedy is resting above the DVD player, a Sponge Bob Square Pants figurine is in the fish tank, and though the walls are covered with law books there are a stack of comics under a few books in one corner, and if I squint I'm pretty sure that is my fathers name on that blue book. But despite all these slightly personal touches there is not one single photo in the whole office. I'm about to do some snooping when the door burst open, forcing me to sit quickly back down.

Julian Baker walks in. He's tall, with broad shoulders and good looks, like he ages well, in a away he reminds me of my father but I can't quite put my finger on why. Mr Baker's eyes are dark, and he's wearing a ridiculous hat, one my dad would laugh at, and the short hair I can see under it is a dark grey, but he can't be that old, maybe about my parent's age – early forties.

He hangs up his suit jacket and makes his way over to his desk, never making eye contact with me but speaking nonetheless "I don't want any girl scout cookies"

"Good because I don't have any"

He glances at me curiously and narrowing his eyes keeps looking at me as he leans over to press down on the intercom "Kerri, what is this thing doing in my office?"

_Thing? _I am a thing. I guess he doesn't have any children. Again I let out a breath before speaking "I'm here to retain you" and I stand up ready to go shake his hand "I'm Ab-"

"I don't think so" he laughs, letting go of the intercom to look at me as he leans back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"You don't even know if I have a case!"

He chuckles again, and then sits up properly, shuffling papers, he stops after a few seconds and looks at me again "you're still here?"

I ignore his tone "is it true you sued god?" and bring out the file of newspaper clippings, leaving them on his desk.

He kinked his brow, his mouth lifting, he had a nice smile, charming, and for the first time he really looked at me, but he shakes his head "I sued the diocese of providence, on behalf of a kid in one of their orphanages who needed an experimental treatment which they felt violated Vatican II. However, it makes a better headline to say a nine year old is suing god for getting the short end of the stick." I just stare at him, and he gives a slight nod as he admits "Dylan Jerome wanted to sue god for not caring enough about him"

It was like an opening I could just slip in and say what I needed to say, and he wasn't currently trying to kick me out, so I dig my nails deep into my palm as I open my mouth "Mr Baker, my brother has leukaemia"

He doesn't blink "I'm sorry to hear that, but even if I was willing to litigate against god again, which I'm not, you can't bring a lawsuit on someone else's behalf"

This is when I explain my life – my own blood seeping into my brothers veins, being held down as they take white cells for Keith, the doctor saying he didn't get enough the first time so I have to do it all over again. The bruises and the deep bone ache after I gave up my marrow, the shots that promise more stem cells in me so there are extra for my brother. The fact I've never been sick but I might as well be. The fact the only reason I was ever born was to be used for Keith's benefit. The fact that even now a major decision is being made, one that must include me to work, and no one has even thought to ask the one person who deserves to get out their opinion.

It is too much to explain so I cut down to the chase, "I don't care about God. It's my parents; I want to sue them for the rights to my own body"

_-x-_

_And everything seems cut and dried,__  
__Day and night, earth and sky,__  
__Somehow I just don't believe it _

_Runaway train, never going back__  
__Wrong way on a one-way track__  
__Seems like I should be getting somewhere__  
__Somehow I'm neither here nor there _

_Bought a ticket for a runaway train__  
__Like a madman laughing at the rain__  
__A little out of touch, a little insane__  
__It's just easier than dealing with the pain _

_Runaway train, never going back__  
__Wrong way on a one-way track__  
__Seems like I should be getting somewhere__  
__Somehow I'm neither here nor there _

_Runaway train, never coming back__  
__Runaway train, tearing up the track__  
__Runaway train, burning in my veins__  
__I run away but it always seems the same_

_- Runaway Train, Soul Asylum_


	2. Second Chance

**disclaimer: i do not own anything, least of all one tree hill.**

**first off, a new chapter within a week in so not my norm, but i have been writing this for a while so i do have a few chapters stored away but im trying to make it last until i have finished love and infatuation so i can focus on this and BC:BTRD. this chapters quiet short, but i hope you enjoy it anyway. thanks to all those who reviewed, tanya, melissa, evie, mel, monkeyluver012, psiek, and allie. hugs. keep reviewing and i will keep updating, deal?**

_My eyes are open wide  
By the way I made it through the day  
I watched the world outside  
By the way, I'm leaving out today_

_I just saw Haley's comet, she waved  
Said "why you always running in place?"  
Even the man in the moon disappeared  
Somewhere in the stratosphere_

_Tell my mother, tell my father  
I've done the best I can  
To make them realize  
This is my life  
I hope they understand  
I'm not angry, I'm just saying  
Sometimes goodbye is a second chance_

_Please don't cry one tear for me  
I'm not afraid of what I have to say  
This is my one and only voice  
So listen close, it's only for today_

_-x-_

Chapter Two

_*Julian*_

The girl sitting across from me waits for an answer, one I purposely hold off on giving. She wants to sue her parents, what teenager doesn't, but she wants to sue for the rights to her own body. The type of case I avoid like the black plague – too much effort and too much babysitting. To get away from her expressive hazel eyes I study my desk, glancing over all the notes Kerri has left for me my eyes freeze on one, and I almost sigh out loud. My father, great just great, just what I needed today. I quickly move my eyes from his name and number and find myself once again under the curious gaze of this girl. She's what, thirteen? Fourteen at the most? And this time I do sigh "what did you say your name was?"

She sits straighter, "I didn't, and it's Abby"

Pretty name for a pretty girl, I can't help but think as I push my chair back and start towards the door, I open it up, ignoring my intercom in an attempt to kill two birds with one stone "Kerri, can you get the Planned Parenthood number for Miss-" and I stop not knowing the child's last name, turning back with an unspoken question, she's now turned in the chair watching me with wide eyes "_what?"_ she asks, looking angry "_planned parenthood?"_

I shouldn't have to deal with this crap, if a disgruntled teenager wants to have sex then let her parents deal with it, I didn't get into law for this "Look, Abby, here's some free advice. Suing you're parents because they won't let you go on birth control or go to the abortion clinic is like using a sledgehammer to kill a mosquito. Save your allowance and go to Planned Parenthood, they are better equipped to deal with your problem, and frankly I don't have time for this"

In a flash she's knocked back the chair to stand up, and anger crackles around the kid like electricity, and it's directed straight at me, and all of a sudden I feel intimidated by this child with her mismatched outfit, yes, for the first time I notice her sneakers. It almost makes me chuckle but her eyes still hold that anger, "My brother is _dying_, and my mom wants to cut me open and give him one of _my _kidneys, so _frankly _I somehow find it hard to believe a handful of condoms will solve my problem"

I shut the door in Kerri's face and walk back to my desk, sitting down I lean forward "_no one _can make you donate an organ against your will"

She matches me for each move and leans forward, her hazel eyes I now see are a warm pale brown, with flecks of grey through them, I've never seen the combination like this before, her tone is harder now "really?" her brow kinks "I was a newborn the first time I gave something to my brother, it was cord blood. Keith has leukaemia – APL – and my cells put him in remission, but he relapsed when I was five, _that _time it was lymphocytes that were drawn from me but because the doctor never seemed to get enough I had to go through with it three times. When that stopped working there was a bone marrow transplant, and every time Keith gets infections I have to donate granulocytes, the next time he relapsed it was peripheral blood stem cells"

It's going right over my head, the girl's medical vocabulary is far beyond normal knowledge and I am no doctor, but I get the picture. So Planned Parenthood isn't an option I see, I grab out a notebook and about to put pen paper I look at Abby through my lashes "clearly you've agreed to do this for your brother before"

She pauses, looking down at her feet before shaking her head slowly "agreeing would mean they bothered to ask, my saying yes was more an implied thing"

"Have you told your parents you don't want to donate a kidney?"

"They won't listen to me"

"Maybe they would if you mentioned this" nothing like your daughter suing you to make you sit up and notice them.

Finally Abby looks up again "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Keith being sick. They had me so I could save him, went to a specialist and chose the embryo that would be the perfect genetic match" it reminds me of the old saying an heir and a spare, but the truth is as much as this kid might not like being an afterthought many children are conceived for less than admirable reasons everyday; to save a collapsing marriage, for money, to mould in a parents image, and compared to my father I think having parents that would go to those lengths to save one child might not be all that bad. She must have read my mind because her brow kinks again "do they sound like they'd understand the word no?"

And now I come to the point we've both been skirting around, and I hold the pen in my hand tighter, squeezing until it hurts "and what happens if you don't give your brother the kidney?"

"He'll die"

"And you're cool with that?" I ask, the air in the room suddenly thick with tension as her wide thick lips set in a straight line, her eyes flash as she says "I'm here, what does that say?"

"I'm just wondering why now, why are you suddenly saying no?"

Those eyes flash again, covering her emotions as she looks behind me to the bookcase "because-" she whispers "-it never stops"

I can't pretend to know what this young girl has gone through, but I do know about parents, about having one who doesn't seem to hear or see you, one where you're simply a means to an end. And I know about stepping away from the routine and breaking free. Law wasn't what I dreamt of doing, or planned on doing, it was more like an epiphany in my twenties when I wanted a whole new slate away from my father and my constant failure. I don't regret the decision, I am good at what I do and I have done more for people in my years as an attorney than I ever did as a musician or movie producer. And when she says those words, almost choking, _because it never stops _I have the urge to be the one to help her.

My silence must worry her, she quickly brushes her dark blonde hair away from her face and stares at me, her big eyes begging "I can pay you, I have over four hundred, and I know it's not enough but I can figure out a way to get more"

"I charge two hundred an hour" she can't afford me, and she knows that too, her shoulders slump and for a moment it's like a sparkle enters her eyes as she gives a crooked smile, allowing the smallest of dimples to appear on her right cheek "maybe I could walk your dog or something"

"I'm not really a dog person… we'll work something out"

Her eyes widen, and she has to pick up her jaw from the floor "so… so, you'll do it?" and I simply nod, she shakes her head "I can't let you do this for nothing"

I shrug and point a thumb to the aquarium "you can feed my fish" an empty threat, the aquarium is empty but she doesn't know that. It's not that I'm a charitable guy, I like getting paid for my work, but this case is a lock – girl doesn't want to give up kidney, no court would force girl to give up kidney, simple as that. No effort what's so ever and it'll cover my pro bono for the next decade, as well as get rid of the nagging feelings this kid stirs in me. Win, win. "I'm going to file a petition for you in the family court, legal emancipation for medical purposes-"

"And then what?"

"There will be a hearing and the judge will appoint you a guardian ad litem, which is-"

Her eyes roll as she interrupts me "a person trained to work with kids in the family court, who determines what is in the child's best interest, yeah so, just another adult deciding what happens to me"

"Well, kid, that's the way the law works and there is no getting around it. But, Abby, this adult would only be looking out for _you, _not your brother or parents"

After that she doesn't say anything, and I usher her out to Kerri to fill out forms, "new client?" she asks and I nod, "look after her" before going back to my office.

I spend ten minutes staring at my father's name, wondering what the man could possibly want after all this time. Family, sometimes they come with strings, and after losing out too many times I have come to the conclusion that I'm just not cut out for a family. I lost my mother and my father is the anti-christ, and every other time I got close to having a family it slipped from between my fingers. I almost had a wife and daughter once, a long time ago, or I wanted them to have that role in my life. Before I get all self pitying I stand back up and return to the others, just in time to see Abby stepping into the elevator and sliding along the back wall. For a girl who is supposedly getting what she wanted Abby doesn't seem happy.

On instinct I hold out my hand and Kerri hands me the file, "are you sure you want to do this case?" she asks, and I send her my best charming smile and shrug "couldn't say no to the puppy eyes"

"Do her parents know?"

"They will by tomorrow" I reply distracted as I turn back to the office with the folder, stopping when Kerri calls out to me "you're an idiot Julian"

"What?"

"Where is she meant to live?"

And this time my insides freeze as well, I never considered the ramifications this law suit could have for Abby and her home situation and that neither party may feel particularly comfortable being under the same roof. Kerri sends her best accusatory look straight at me; she's worked with me for so many years I know I'm in trouble, probably about to get the 'you're an insensitive jerk' lecture. To avoid it I turn back around, instinctively opening the folder and scanning Abby's details.

And there it is.

Abra Scott. Little Abby's name is actually Abra Scott, resident of Tree Hill and only twelve years old. It just can't be, I mean, what are the chances? I slam my office door behind me and throw the folder onto my desk. Of all the luck a Scott walks through my door, years of living right near the town and nothing and then this.

Maybe it's a mistake, Scott is a common name. However it's harder to ignore the ringing of familiarity that the name Abra Scott brings me, teasing me at the back of my head. The book is right there, forgotten among a few others, and when I slam the blue novel onto the desk as well and sit down I stare between the folder and the book.

The dedication is on the second page, _for my very own miracle, my daughter Abra, a shining star in dark times. _The evidence is stacking up against me, but maybe it's still just a very big coincidence that Lucas has a daughter named Abra and now I have a client with the name Abra Scott. The last time I saw Lucas Scott was nineteen years ago, at the funeral of his late wife Peyton, I have no idea how he ended up with a daughter named Abra, and apparently a very sick son as well. Named Keith, well that is another clue. Still a part of me refuses to believe it, so I open the folder wanting to see it in black and white and there it is, in Abby's messy scrawl, her claiming Lucas Scott as her father. But the biggest shock of all, the thing I tell myself I never saw coming was the other name - her mother.

Brooke Scott, which can only be one person, the girl I use to know as Brooke Davis, and also the girl who broke my heart. This entire thing just became very personal.

-x-

_  
I just saw Haley's comet, she waved  
Said "why you always running in place?"  
Even the man in the moon disappeared  
Somewhere in the stratosphere_

_Tell my mother, tell my father  
I've done the best I can  
To make them realize  
This is my life  
I hope they understand  
I'm not angry, I'm just saying  
Sometimes goodbye is a second chance_

_Here's my chance  
This is my chance_

_Tell my mother, tell my father  
I've done the best I can  
To make them realize  
This is my life  
I hope they understand  
I'm not angry, I'm just saying  
Sometimes goodbye  
Is a second chance_

_Sometimes goodbye  
Is a second chance_

_- Second Chance, Shinedown_


	3. You're Gonna Be

**disclaimer: i own as much as you do, which is like nothing. no rights whats so ever except sharing this with you as long as i disclaim and say i have no rights.**

**call out to allie, mel, melissa, tanya, bella and arubagirl0926 for your reviews, hope you equally enjoy this look into the past. eek almost forgot, last chapter it was revealed abby is short for abra, so my challenge to you readers is try to figure out where she got her name from, hint for those who've read the book try to think of how anna got her name and apply it to oth and bl. there will be a prize for the first best answer, though i dont know what it will be yet. hugs. luv mickei b**

_6lbs and 9oz. looking up at me  
Like I have all the answers  
I hope I have the ones you need  
I've never really done this, now I know what scared is_

_Sometimes I'll protect you from everything that's wrong  
Other times I'll let you just find out on your own  
But that's when you'll be growing,  
And the whole time I'll be knowing_

_You're gonna fly with every dream you chase  
You're gonna cry, but know that that's okay  
Sometimes life's not fair, but if you hang in there  
You're gonna see that sometimes bad is good  
We just have to believe things work out like they should  
Life has no guarantees, but always loved by me  
You're gonna be_

_I'm afraid you'll have to suffer through  
some of my mistakes  
Lord knows I'll be trying_

_to give you what it takes_

_What it takes to know the difference  
Between getting by and living  
_

_-x-_

Chapter Three

_*Brooke*_

…_Thirteen years ago…_

You know every inch of your child, every scar, every discoloration, every detail, or at least I do. I soak them in, as if it may be the last time I see them, what did they wear today, how was their hair, did they grow? It may surprise you the changes one day can do, you'll look up in the morning to find the sleepy toddler walking into the room as they rub their eyes and it'll hit you that they look bigger, or their features have just changed that tad so you catch more of a glimpse of the adult they promise to be. The bruise wasn't there when I changed Keith, I know that, so when Sawyer points it out as I swap their clothes for swim suits I can't help but stare.

The bruise itself looks like a four leaf clover, small and along his spine, thinking it can't be more than dirt I lick my finger and then rub at the spot but it refuses to come off, "does it hurt?" I ask my son but Keith just shakes his head. Sawyer puts her face as close to the mark as she can and then looks up at me with her narrow blue eyes "does that mean he's lucky?" and I just give a nervous smile and finish getting them ready. Keith is two months shy of his second birthday, a small boy with pale skin and big brown eyes. He looks like me, I've looked for Lucas is our son's features but I never seem to find my husband in there, just me. Sawyer though is the female version of her father, and I do the same thing, I try to search for Peyton in the little girls face hoping to catch a glimpse of the best friend I lost, but as hard as I look the resemblance can always be credited back to Lucas. I guess we each have our clone. "Careful, Sawyer" I call out and protectively stop her by placing a hand on her shoulder, the ground is wet around the pool and the last thing I want is for my step daughter to get hurt. Sawyer likes to go head first into situations, never considering the danger, only last month she jumped off the kitchen counter and cut her chin in the fall, leaving a crescent shape scar that is still healing.

"Brooke" she complains, shrugging my hand away, and I know I have offended the child, she only ever calls me Brooke when I'm in the bad books or she's thinking too hard, otherwise I'm just Momma. It's this clear distinction that is always there, the fact I am not her _real _mother, and I dread the day she decides that means that I don't have to mean as much to her.

She frowns, her little face crinkling up, "I'm _six _now, you don't have to hold my hand anymore" but that doesn't mean I stop feeling the need to, but she's right, she's six and she needs to feel some sort of independence, so I let her go.

Keith wiggles in my arms, always so quiet, and I run my fingers through his short dark hair, before settling him down on the ground.

"Watch me, watch me!" Sawyer screams out in a giggle and I look up just in time to see her jump straight into the pool, I hold my breath like always until her head pops back up, a huge smile on her face, and I clap until she's pulling herself back up and jumping back in "careful!" I tell her again and Sawyer rolls her eyes. I worry too much, Lucas tells me that all the time.

I step carefully into the cold water, allowing myself to get use to the chill before taking the next step and then the next. Watching Keith eyeing me the whole time, I try to smile at him but I'm afraid it doesn't reach my eyes, "look Keith, Mommy and Sawyer like the water" I tell him softly, holding out my arms. Keith isn't like Sawyer, he's shyer, more thoughtful, and likes to test the water. Eyeing me still he takes a step forward and dips his toe in but quickly takes it back out. As Keith takes a step back Sawyer waits impatiently by the pool "watch _me _Momma" she calls out, I send her a glance that clearly states _wait a moment_ and she huffs. "Come on, baby, Mommy will hold onto you" I try telling Keith but he looks dubiously at the pool, Sawyer unable to wait anymore throws herself into the water, it splashes up and gets me in the face, no doubt wetting Keith as well "SAWYER BROOKE SCOTT! not so close to your brother, you know better" and I watch as she scowls some more and swims to the side, getting out again and stomping further away from us "_I hate having a dumb brother anyway, I wish he went away_" she mumbles under her breath and I just sigh, not having the energy to deal with her temper at the moment.

The next time Sawyer jumps into the pool the splash only just manages to spray the ground near Keith's feet, but this time he chuckles, and slowly I coax him closer to the edge, until he puts both feet onto the shallow step, then I sweep him up and with him in my arms walk further into the pool. "Good jump!" I call to Sawyer as she comes up to the surface again, and I'm rewarded with a grin.

Sawyer swims up to me, and minding her brother wraps an arm around my neck as she clings to my body, I give her a sad smile and with my spare hand I brush a stray piece of wet hair from her face. Her little hand lifts to my face, and she touches my dimple which is on show because I'm biting my bottom lip, then runs her thumb along my lips "what happened to your smile?" she asks innocently.

A sob breaks from me, but I don't cry, I refuse to cry, and I'm especially not going to break down in front of the kids. Sawyer tilts her head, honest blue eyes observing my face "why'd you lose it?" she asks this time.

Avoiding her beautiful face I focus on the ripples in the water "I'm just a little sad"

"Can I kiss it better?" and before I can answer her little lips are already reaching up to my nose to peck it, and for the first time in a month I manage a genuine full smile, "all better?" the same words I always say to her after I kiss another one of her scrapes better, and even though I am far from being the bubbly Brooke Scott I usually am, I still nod.

By the time I look up I notice Lucas standing by the pool gate watching us, "hey stranger"

"How you feeling?" he asks me as Sawyer lets go of my neck to make her way to her father, Lucas meets her at the edge and lifts her up "hi princess, have you been good?"

"Uh-huh, Momma and I made cookies" and for a moment he beams at his daughter, tugging her wet piggy tails before sending me a questioning look, I roll my eyes up to the sky and shrug one shoulder, trying to tell him silently that I'm not okay, but I'm getting there. He nods and once again smiles down at Sawyer "where are these cookies?" before carrying her inside as the little girl chatters on.

The pool was simply a way to indulge my children, with Lucas home Sawyer's interest is all gone and I know she'll want to share everything she did today with her father, and Keith doesn't really seem to care about the water. I look down at my son, this mini version of me, and just wish that someday soon I can get back to being the mother he remembers, but I think I need a lot more kisses better before that day.

…

The dinner table is covered, and I know the moment Lucas touches a page and looks at me that I've once again worried him "its alright" I say, not meeting his eye as I start getting out the plates. I can hear him think, "still nothing?" and I just give a tight smile and shake my head, abandoning my spot I rush over to the table and scoop up the evidence talking fast as I carelessly toss them over onto Sawyer's play table "don't give me that look, Luke, I'm fine, everything's fine, and it means nothing" but then he grabs my wrist and spins me around, "Pretty Girl" is all he says, the long ago nickname he slips into anytime he feels like I'm slipping.

I look up "please, Luke, I'm okay"

"You haven't cried yet"

I stay silent, unmoving. My husband sighs again, his fingers circling the bare skin of my arm, and then he speaks again "you haven't cried yet, you haven't created one new design, I can't remember the last time I saw you smile, it is _not _okay Brooke".

No, it isn't, and as amazing as it is to have Lucas holding me, pulling my body close to his chest and hearing the thump of his heart under my cheek, it is still not okay. But I don't cry.

"I'm hungry" Sawyer breaks the moment by running into the kitchen, I use the distraction to step away from Lucas and avoid eye contact, "are you, sweetie? Then I guess its time to eat. Go get your brother" and that crooked smile she gives before running away goes a long way at the moment, it gives me the strength to carry on.

From behind me Lucas' hands grip my shoulders "this isn't over, we have to talk about it because I'm not sure how much longer you can go on like this", his words relax me, because knowing I have him here for me means a lot, "okay, but not tonight, just let me spend time with the family I have left".

We say nothing more as we finish setting the table and all sit down, but as I lean over to help Sawyer cut her meat Lucas asks me if I heard from Nathan or Haley today, and just like that we go back to our usual talking, our roles as loving husband and wife, caring best friends and bickering couple.

After dinner Sawyer begs me to read her a story and it's a half an hour before lights go out, I kiss her cheek and sneak away from her room. Lucas grins at me, standing in the doorway of our room with Keith in his arms "someone else wanted their kiss"

I smooth back Keith's hair, kissing the top of his head, and welcome him into my arms as he struggles to escape Lucas to reach me. "Where's my kiss?" Lucas whines, and I can't help but scoff before leaning up and placing a soft kiss against his lips, only it becomes slightly more than I expect, and when we finally part I smile. He blinks, then runs his thumb along my bottom lip not too unlike how Sawyer had done in the pool "was that a smile?" he asks, gently as if afraid that saying it out loud will make the smile go away.

"I'm trying, Luke, I am" I tell him, and he brings me into a hug, burying his face into my hair as he whispers to me "that's all I can ask".

That night when we crawl into bed together Lucas curls me into his body, the same way he always does, only this time when he gives me a kiss I let all of myself get lost in it, I welcome his hands on my body and for the first time since the day of my mothers funeral we make love.

…

The next morning I wake alone in bed, knowing that today Lucas would have woken up early and gone for a jog before heading off to the school where he's the coach of the Tree Hill Ravens. Mornings like this Lucas never wakes me up, leaving the task to the children who always decide that my day should start an hour before I think it should. The strange thing is that this morning when I glance at the clock it reads nine thirty, not only have Sawyer and Keith not woken me but Sawyer is now officially late for school, so by the time I am walking down the stairs I am becoming more and more frantic, rushing into the kitchen where a puddle of spilt milk waits on the wooden table, and a trail of fruit loops make a pattern on the floor, this time I have to admit that there is anger rising up inside me but it disappears the moment I step into the living room to find Sawyer sitting on the couch, eating her breakfast, and looking adorable in her attempt at dressing herself. The skirt is on sideways, the buttons are in all the wrong holes, her socks are mismatched, and her hair is in a pony tail that is threatening to come undone any minute now. And she turns, grinning at me widely so I can see the gap from her missing tooth, and for a flash I see Peyton looking up at me "morning Momma" she says, happy and content, before spooning in another mouthful. I walk further into the room "why didn't you wake me?" I ask gently, leaning down and carefully pulling out the lackey from her hair. She shrugs "you looked real happy sleeping so I thinking I could help you and get ready for school alone"

"Well, now you're going to be _late _for school-" I begin to say but her eyes shadow over, and knowing that this little child was doing everything she could to cheer me up I put on a warm smile and instead finish with "-but thank you so much, everyone needs a sleep in every now and then… where's Keith?" I suddenly ask, the absence of my son shooting through me. Sawyer simply shrugged again and answered distractedly, her eyes focused on the cartoon she was watching, "he wanted a sleep in too". My children are like an alarm clock, they wake up at the same time every morning, cheerfully happy and ready for the day, they usually jump onto my bed forcing me up too, so Keith not wanting to wake up instantly makes me curious, he's been sniffling lately and I wonder if he's coming down with something, which could explain his even quieter mood yesterday. With Keith it's hard to tell, he's always been quiet, and his voice so soft and little where as Sawyer was always the one you could hear from down the street. With a ruffle of Sawyer's hair I tell her I'll be back soon, and then I start towards Keith's room, calling his name loudly as I go.

One eye flutters open when I touch his tiny shoulder, those big brown eyes looking more green than usual as he stares at me with just one, "Keith, baby, time to get up" I coo to him, pulling off his blanket and already mentally going over the doctor's number in my head. Slowly, and still like he's half asleep, Keith stumbled in his attempt to climb into my lap, and when his head eventually finds my shoulder it is still without one word from him. I peel his shirt off, reassuringly talking to him the whole time, telling him that we're going to go see a special friend today, and then I stop midsentence, as my eyes fall to his back. There they are, lined along his spine, three more small bruises.

…

We wait for the results of the blood test, Sawyer resting her head on my lap as Keith flips through a bright kids book in the play corner. The doctor suspects some sort of virus, and I try not to play doctor and think of all the Grey's Anatomy episodes I watched where similar symptoms have lead to tragic diagnosis. Just because I watch Grey's Anatomy doesn't make me a doctor, I tell myself that over and over again, watching my precious son play quietly as if he has no care in the world. Sawyer has been clinging to me all morning, as if she can instinctively tell that I'm worried and scared. What I want to be doing at the moment is taking my kids home, away from this room with god knows how many kids and germs passing through, after the doctor tells me that it is nothing, hands me a prescription and tells us to go home. In the end though its another hour and a half before Dr Yates ushers us back into his office, and I can tell from his face that what is about to happen is far from what I want to happen. I've known Edward Yates for six years; the paediatric doctor has been looking after Sawyer and Keith from their first needles to every sniffle and, in Sawyer's case, broken bones. He's only seven years older than us, and one of the kindest and jolliest guys I have ever met, I'm actually the one who introduced him to his wife, so yes I think I know him well enough to know that I _don't _like the look on his face.

By the time I sit down I'm convinced I'm reading to much into it, I look at Keith who now sits in my lap, playing with my necklace and wearing a dimpled smile, surely this happy little boy is perfectly fine. Sawyer sits next to me, kicking her feet so with each tick of the clock her shoes bang the doctor's desk, I touch her knee "please, Sawyer, not now" and her kicks stop, I then look at the doctor "Dr Yates, Edward, you're scaring me with that look" and I can feel Sawyer suddenly look at me, noticing the shake in my voice.

"It's Keith's white cell count. The results show it's much lower than normal"

"I don't know what that means" and my hand subconsciously starts rubbing Keith's back, and in the back of my head I can hear the steady rhythm of Sawyer's kicks again, I still her once more as Edward explains it to me "he may have some type of autoimmune deficiency, or it may be a lab error. I think, to be safe, I'm going to send you up to the haematologist at the hospital to repeat the test"

You've got to be kidding, it was had enough watching Keith go through the needles the first time around. I want to take my kids home. He hands me a piece of paper, but it's not the prescription I wanted earlier, instead it's a name _Candice Hyams, Tree Hill Hospital, Haematology/Oncology._

I shake my head, "oncology?" I look up at Edward "but that's cancer" and I wait for him to explain it, to say how it's just a title or that the blood lab and cancer ward simply share the same floor, anything to get the word cancer out of my mind, because it _has _to be a mistake.

He gives me no such explanation. I close my eyes, count back from ten, and this time when Sawyer starts kicking I let her.

…

There are moments in life, crossroads when we make life changing decisions without even knowing it. Like the doctor suggesting you terminate your pregnancy because having the baby most likely will kill you, only to fight and survive that and then decide to go for an innocent drive mere weeks later and die in a car accident. Or, following a whim you climb naked into the backseat of a boy's car in high school, having no idea that over ten years later you would marry the same boy. A moment that changes everything, not only the course of your own destiny but that of those around you, another one, waiting in a hospital for your husband to pick up his phone so you can tell him the very thing you've been trying to convince yourself for hours is really nothing is actually your biggest fear.

Haley picks up, her voice in mid laugh as she says I've reached Coach Scott's line, "Haley, it's me, Brooke"

"Hey Tigger, how are the kids?"

I almost choke, and it takes a moment for me to say instead "can you please put Lucas on"

"He just stepped out, want me to get him to call you back?"

"I'll wait"

"Brooke, are you alright?"

And I shake my head, whispering in a broken voice "no, I'm not. I need to speak to Lucas"

There's a muffle over the line and then seconds later Lucas' voice finally speaks to me "Brooke?"

"I need you"

"I'm there" he replies straight away, and I can hear him give Haley a rushed goodbye as I imagine him racing out of his office, his breathing is rough from running by the time he manages to ask me where I am.

"We're at the hospital"

…

Having Lucas by my side is a comfort, as if now together we're stronger, a double line of defence. With Lucas here Sawyer is less worried, allowing herself to leave my side and play, Keith just lies half over both of us, his little hands holding tightly onto Lucas' shirt as he sleeps. It's got to be some sort of mistake, some horrible mistake.

We've been here nearly four hours, and the doctor is now asking us all these questions, it feels like he's asked us everything from what position we conceived Keith to when he started feeding himself. I'm tired, my kids are tired, I'm scared, my kids are scared, and we all just want to go home.

I snap "are these questions really necessary?"

"We're building a medical history, Mrs Scott. We want to know everything we possibly can about your son, so we can understand what is wrong with him. Now, his first word?"

"Dada" Lucas whispers, a smile on his lips, "his first word was Dada"

"I mean, when was it?"

"Oh" Lucas frowns and turns to me, I think he's still completely lost, not believing where we are - he's not the only one. I look down at Keith, and touch his jean clad legs as I remember his screams from all the needles, "ten months" I answer.

Another doctor wearing a lab coat walks up to us in the silence that followed, "Mr and Mrs Scott, I'm a phlebotomist. Dr Hyams wants me to do a coag panel on Keith"

"Can't you do a finger stick?" Lucas asks.

She blinks at us, "no, this is really the easiest way"

Something roars inside me, something primitive and strong, I slip carefully from beneath Keith and stand up, staring down at the phlebotomist "do you think I care about what is easier for you? Do you think it's easy for us, waiting here with our children who should be at home, not knowing what's going on or why you keep doing these test? Do you think it's easy for my son? Since when did we get the option to do what's_ easiest_?" I'm getting louder and louder. When it comes to Keith I like to have the last word, as much as I love Sawyer when push comes to shove Lucas always gets the last word because he's her father and I'm the stepmother, so though he asks my opinion all major decisions are in the end made by him – does she get her ears pierced, which school does she go to… as much as we say it's even it isn't, he gets the last say. So with Keith I fight that little bit harder to get the last word in.

Lucas grabs me, pulling me back into his body "Pretty Girl" he whispers, a pleading in his tone, I turn in his arms, burying myself into his chest. I can't handle looking at these white walls for a moment longer, I can't handle all these doctors who talk about things I don't understand, most of all I can't handle the thought my family is about to lose somebody else.

How long Lucas rocks me I don't know, but Dr Hyams reappears "I hear there was a problem with Keith's coagulopathy panel" and still against Lucas' chest, but now sitting down, I hear the scrape of another chair as Dr Hyams sits in front of us "…his blood count is very low--1.3. His haemoglobin is 7.5, hematocrit 18.4, platelets 81,000, and neutrophils 0.6. Numbers like that suggests an autoimmune disease, but Keith's results also show twelve percent promyelocytes, and five percent blasts, which means that in your sons case all indications point to a leukemic syndrome"

The word repeats itself over and over in my head, finally I lift my face from Lucas' chest and look at the doctor "leukemic"

"Leukaemia is a blood cancer"

I didn't need the doctor to tell me that, I know what leukaemia is, I didn't even need to watch Grey's for that knowledge. "There has to be some mistake" Lucas says, now holding tightly onto my hand.

The doctor shakes her head, "I'll need to do a bone marrow aspiration to confirm it, but at this point it seems Keith has acute promyelocytic leukaemia"

One questions hovers heavily inside my throat, unable to escape, a moment later Lucas asks the very thing I'm too afraid to, "is… is our son going to die?"

I don't want to hear the answer, I don't want to be here, but here I am waiting for this stranger to tell me if one of the most precious people in my life is about to be taken. Dr Hyams seems to struggle to find words, and I already know, after all what words are the right words to tell a parent their child is dying? There are none.

"APL is a very rare subgroup of myeloid leukaemia, only about twelve hundred people a year are diagnosed with it. The rate of survival is twenty to thirty percent, if treatment is started immediately"

The numbers repeat in my head as I consider the odds, ones against my son, I'm speechless, unable to do anything but stare at Keith's flushed cheeks. Lucas is calmer, though his eyes look glazy, "so there is a way to… save him?"

The doctor leans forward, looking us both in the eye, so intensely that one of my eyes stray from Keith to focus on her. "Yes-" the doctor nods "-with aggressive treatment myeloid leukaemias carry a survival prognosis of nine months to three years"

I've dreamt of watching Keith get married, proudly clapping at his graduation, teaching him to drive, I've imagined the life he'll get to life, having his own family, a happy home and satisfying job. For two years I have imagined his _future _and now in a split second I find out that might not even include his first day at school.

…

By the time we get home from the hospital dinner time has long gone, we grabbed the kids McDonalds on the way but neither Lucas or I could stomach food at the moment, and they're both asleep in the back when we finally stop at our home. We don't move, Lucas just stares at his hands holding the steering wheel and I have no words to say to him, no words to comfort him at this time because I don't have the ones to help myself let alone him. It's just so unfair.

The silence is grating, louder than any noise that could break this moment, but then it starts, the quiet sobs coming from my husband as he lowers his chin. I can't bear to stand watching Lucas cry as the tears I can't shed fall down his cheeks. Quickly I open my door and almost slam it as I turn away from the car. A moment later Lucas' door shuts too and then he's touching my shoulder "Brooke?"

I don't turn around, shaking off his touch "we have to get them inside" and blindly I go back to the car and open the backdoor only to see Keith sleeping peacefully in his car seat and the sight makes me stagger back against Lucas who is still close behind me. Will he look so peaceful when the time comes, will he just slip away in his sleep or will it be painful, will there be warning or will one minute he just be gone? I hate that I'm thinking these questions and my hand slaps across my mouth, holding in the involuntary cry that wants to escape my throat. I step backwards, forcing Lucas to do so as well, "I can't do it… not now"

"Okay. That's okay, Brooke, I'll get Keith, you go get Sawyer" Lucas says and already moves around me. I stand there for a second, watching him carefully lift Keith out, as if the little boy is breakable, and I guess now he almost is. Lucas eyes catch mine as he cradles Keith, "it's okay" he says again, but we both know it's not. I nod anyway and speed walk to Sawyer's side, and with the same care unbuckle her seat and lift her into my arms. She's getting heavier, and like she reminds me she's _six _now not a little girl, but she'll always be my little girl, just like Keith will always be my little boy, even when he's twen… _if _he reaches twenty.

Once the kids are in bed I ignore Lucas and go have a shower, washing the hospital off my body, but warm and clean once again I ache for his arms. I need him to tell me it's going to be alright, I need him to save our family from all of it. Instead after searching the house I nervously make my way outside and see the light in the garage on, sighing I cross my arms and take the steps to the door, anger already growing inside me by the time I walk inside to find Lucas sitting in the drivers seat, head bent low as more tears fall from him.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" I scream, Lucas jumps, a heartbroken expression on his face as he looks up at me "I asked you what the hell you think you're doing"

"Brooke-"

"No! Get out, get out now!" and I can't help that the thought of him sitting in that car disgusts me because I know why he's chosen to sit there instead of waiting for me, his wife. But Lucas chooses to stay seated in the black comet that hasn't seen the light of day in six years, the car which is missing the bonnet and is smashed in on the front passenger's side. It was the very spot Peyton Sawyer Scott took her last breath, the girl who was my best friend and the woman who was his first wife. "GET OUT!" I scream again.

Lucas just looks at me, and I shake my head "don't do it Luke, don't you dare start mourning our son before he's even gone" and I point a finger at him.

"_I don't know what to do" _and his voice breaks as more tears fall, and I fight the deep despair that is threatening to sink me, but as much as I try to soften my voice it still sounds angry when I glare at him and speak again, "well I'll tell you what _not _to do. _Don't _sit in _that _car and think about death, _don't _cry out here alone and think about my son dying, because he's not going to, okay? He. Is. Not. Going. To. Die."

"BUT WHAT IF HE DOES?" Lucas screams, hitting the car, glaring right back at me "you're thinking about it too. Thinking about Keith, Peyton, your Mom, thinking that our son is going to be next"

"But he's not, because we're going to fight this, we're going to do everything we can to make sure we don't lose him" and as I stubbornly tell my husband this I make a promise to myself, a promise that I will fight tooth and nail to keep my family together. Keith is going nowhere.

Lucas looks down again, his voice still so quiet like he's given up "I keep hearing what the doctor said"

"So am I, Lucas, and you know what else she said… kids beat the odds everyday"

"They also die everyday"

There's a gasp and at first I think I made it, it takes a second for it to hit that the tiny sound came from behind me, turning slowly I come face to face with Sawyer standing meekly in the doorway, silent tears flowing from her eyes.

"Sawyer" Lucas and I both say at the same time, the little girl stares at her father, finally her usually loud voice speaks softly "is Keith going to go to heaven like Granma 'Toria did?" and her question freezes us both, my mouth drops open. Her blue eyes flash to me, more tears coming out "I didn't mean it" she says, sounding so scared and guilty "I didn't mean it when I said I want him to go away. I don't want my brother to go to heaven" and in a blink of the eye I run to her and pull her into my arms, hugging her with everything in me, "I know, sweetie, I know".

Soon my shirt is wet from her tears, I carefully pick her up "he's sick, but we're going to make sure he gets better, do you hear me squirt? Your brother isn't going anywhere"

"Promise?" Sawyer begs from my shoulder, and I can hear Lucas say my name quietly, begging me to not make I promise I can't keep, I close my eyes and pull Sawyer in tighter "we're a family and families stick together, he's not going anywhere"

Turning around to look at Lucas, Sawyer still in my arms, I give him one last defiant glare "_get out"_ I command once more, my voice cold, then I turn my back on the picture of my husband crying in that car and carry my step daughter inside, back to bed where she can dream about something wonderful, not the darkness that had suddenly taken hold of our home.

Lucas sits on the end of our bed when I walk back into our room, he looks at me, dry eyed but still looking distraught. He just looks at me, and I feel everything hitting me at once, all the pain and all the grief. I fall to my knees at his feet, my head to his lap, and Lucas spreads his knees apart and pulls me that little bit closer so I'm hugging his middle, he wraps his arms around me and rests his forehead against my head, and in this moment despite everything I feel completely safe. And for the first time since my mother died I allow myself to cry, I cry for all I've lost and all I could still lose, I cry until there are no tears left. When I'm silent Lucas lifts me up and carries me to bed, gently putting me down before crawling in beside me and scooping me into his hold like every other night, "you're right. And our son is going to beat the odds, we're going to fight this thing, Brooke, and we're going to win"

"And what if we can't?" I whisper, our roles once again reversed. Lucas kisses my cheek "but we will".

-x-

_'Cause anything worth doing is worth doing all the way_

_Just know you'll have to live with_

_All the choices that you make_

_So make sure you're always giving_

_Way more than you're taking_

_You're gonna fly with every dream you chase  
You're gonna cry, but know that that's okay  
Sometimes life's not fair, but if you hang in there  
You're gonna see that sometimes bad is good  
We just have to believe things work out like they should  
Life has no guarantees, but always loved by me  
You're gonna be_

_Someone's everything  
You're gonna see  
Just what you are to me_

_You're gonna fly with every dream you chase  
We just have to believe things work out like they should  
Life has no guarantees, but always loved by me  
You're gonna be  
Always loved by me_

_- You're Gonna Be, Reba McEntire_


	4. Broken

**disclaimer: still dont own anything.**

**first things first, a huge thanx and hugs to my reviewers, arubagirl0926, othfan326, tanya2byour21, mel, typokween, and bl4ever. thanx for the feedback. and no one got the challenge, ive gotten a few pms about it, lol, but no one has given me the correct answer yet, so ill give you all a clue, the challenge was to find out where abby gets her name abra from, the first hint was to think of how she got her name anna in the book and apply it to the oth-verse (for those who havent read my sister keeper the character anna was named andromeda after the constellation _by her father who was an amateur astronomer_), my next hint is simply 109. and for any bler who doesnt instantly know what episode that is well shame on you. anyways, have fun connecting the dots to figure it out. and i hope you enjoy this latest chapter. luv, mickei b.**

_The broken clock is a comfort_

_It helps me sleep tonight_

_Maybe it can stop tomorrow_

_From stealing all my time_

_I am here still waiting_

_Though I still have my doubts_

_I am damaged at best_

_Like you've already figured out_

_I'm falling apart_

_I'm barely breathing_

_With a broken heart _

_That's still beating_

_In the pain_

_There is healing_

_In your name_

_I find meaning_

_The broken locks were a warning_

_You got inside my head_

_I tried my best to be guarded _

_I'm an open book instead_

_And I still see your reflection_

_Inside of my eyes_

_That are looking for purpose_

_They're still looking for life_

_I'm falling apart_

_I'm barely breathing_

_With a broken heart _

_That's still beating_

_In the pain_

_Is the healing_

_In your name_

_I find meaning_

_So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm barely holding on to you_

-x-

Chapter Four

_*Lucas*_

Keats once wrote '_The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness__'_.

Beauty.

Meaning.

Inspiration.

Love, most of all love.

They are my wife, Brooke, and our children, Sawyer, Keith and Abby. When I have doubts, moments when I'm no longer sure if I can continue to breathe and survive the pain that hovers over my life like a storm cloud forecasting disaster, I just look into their eyes and I find my feet again and remember why I take each ragged breath no matter how painful it is.

Giving up is not an option, not when you have a family to fight for. My wife has taught me that lesson the most, with her unwavering faith in life and the chance of a brighter future, but where as some may stand around and wait for the future to come to them she faces it with her chin up high and forces her way ahead. I could have lost everything, but I haven't, not yet anyway, but the demands that having a sick child has is sometimes overwhelming. At times it feels like the whole world revolves around that illness, sometimes it feels that way because for my family it simply is that way. Nevertheless, between the hospital visits and uncertainty, our family has managed to form pure memories free from cold, sterile walls and doctors, free from death and pain and constant worry. When we're just like the average American family, we even have the normal problems every other family has; we just have a particular one that tends to overshadow all the others.

Our family has traditions, deeply rooted into our existence, and some make it through the disruption of the unexpected hospital trips, while others fail the test of time. For years Friday nights symbolised our family night, the phones went off, work was put out of our minds as we closed ourselves inside our home with the children, our DVD collection and board games. I don't even remember how long it has been since we have had one of those nights, after one of Keith's long stays in hospital, and between Brooke and my nights by his bedside, those simple family nights faded into the past. Routines are not something we have the providence do rely on.

But the one thing I can rely on, strangely, is that at seven o'clock dinner is always ready at the Scott table. And on the odd occasion Brooke is not the one to reinforce the 'tradition' then I step in. There are the rare absences caused for various reasons, most of all by Keith, though most nights the five of us sit down together and share our day. Even Sawyer's move above the garage did not allow her to miss out on this seemingly insignificant event, with Brooke's fierce insistence that as long as Sawyer is a part of this family and felt like she could use the house as a Laundromat then she is still required to be sitting at that table – seven o'clock on the dot.

When you've had to live with knowing at any moment you could lose your child, and that any day can be the last with them, you get a new appreciation of time spent with loved ones, and you learn to value every moment you're gifted with.

Tonight Keith is the first to slip into his seat, not even attempting to put down the book in his hands, "Keith" I say in welcome, expecting a grunt in reply but I'm not even given that. Taking the book from him I lay it open face down next to me, Keith's eyes, exact replicas of his mothers, stare at me, "Dad!"

It never ceases to amaze me how much my son resembles his mother, it almost makes it even more unbearable to see those eyes laced with pain and an unfair wisdom too heavy for one his age.

"Hello, son, how was your day?"

"The usual, you know, just hung with the guys and threw the ball around" and he lifts his arms up in an imitation of scoring a basketball, I can picture it, Keith on a court bringing his team to victory. The light in his eyes show that the same vision is in his mind, it's wistful, and edged with sorrow.

Sawyer comes in just in time to roll her eyes at Keith's statement and mess his hair up as she takes her seat next to him "sure" she scoffs in doubt. The truth is Keith isn't in any condition to be playing ball with his friends, and an even sadder truth is that his continued hospitalisation and absence from school has left him with few friends.

My son grins at Sawyer "and what did you do today, grave robbing again?" he asks with a smirk, which earns him a glare from his sister. The last thing I need right now is a reminder of Sawyer's last run in with the friendly Tree Hill police.

Sawyer's about to hit back with a sharp comment, I can tell, but then the door to the kitchen opens and Brooke's entrance causes a silence to quickly take hold. Without a word Sawyer sends Keith one last deadly glare before turning away. My wilful daughter is still unaware that her mother already knows about the last 'incident', for the sake of peace though we've put this one behind us, Brooke trusting that my words to Sawyer was enough this time.

There is always a _this _time, followed by a _next _time. A never ending circle in this family, if it's not to do with Keith's health then it is Sawyer's ambition to turn every strand of our hair gray with one rebellious act after the other. Her need to push the boundaries only intensifies as she gets older, and Brooke and I are her biggest boundary.

Brooke smiles as she walks in, a little too cheerful, then she notices the silence and I have to watch as her smile slowly fades. A fine brow kinks up, "okay, what did I do?" she asks curious, her eyes moving to each of our faces until finally settling on Sawyer "...or what did you do?" her keen perception has always kept Brooke one step ahead in the parenthood game, half the time I'm miles behind.

With cool indifference Sawyer slowly brings a can to her lips and takes a sip, I hadn't even noticed the drink until now, which sends a wave of guilt through my body. She shrugs innocently as she places it back on the table, her posture so unmoved by the emotions that are now churning around the table. It's almost a dare.

I don't even have to look at my wife to know her eyebrow has just lifted higher; no words are spoken, not yet, as they battle silently. The infamous mother-daughter stare off is one of the moments where it's easily forgiven to forget that there is no biological link between the two, Sawyer and Brooke's expressions during this frequent reoccurrence has often reminded me of the times Brooke would have silent battles with her own mother, Victoria. Finally Brooke holds out her hand "you're only nineteen" she whispers, her voice tight. With a huff and that roll of the eyes she does so well Sawyer lifts the can up and Brooke quickly snaps the offending object from Sawyer.

This is the moment I would usually step in, say something to back Brooke up, or reprimand Sawyer, or even defend her, I might change the mood with a joke, except I find that I am stuck here looking between two of the most important people in my life unable to voice any one of the thousand of thoughts that flicker within reach. And I can see Keith is awkwardly trapped between them too.

There is a look veiled in Sawyer's eyes, one I can only just see, beneath the rebellion there is a hint of shame, the hint of the same little girl who once would do anything to make Brooke proud. But my wife, the look she hides carefully is one equally desperate for acceptance. If only the two of them would drop their defences long enough to recognise their desires written in each other's eyes.

So I say nothing, because this game they play - pushing, pulling, taking and giving - it's their own way of letting the other know they care. Then it's gone, Sawyer blinks, her mask of indifference back on "like you never drank underage" she mumbles and I almost smile but Brooke sends me a cutting look before she kinks her brow back up at Sawyer, complete confidence in her voice as she shoots back "at your age I was busy setting up DWnotI, what do you think?" she challenges. Sawyer doesn't respond, and she is unaware of the secret smile we share before Brooke leaves the dining room to dispose of the drink.

A moment later Brooke reappears with a giant bowl of spaghetti in her hands, she places it in the centre before taking her own seat, "busy day?" I ask her, eyeing the bowl of food even as Sawyer and Keith start dishing their own plates. Over the years I have learnt to deduce how my wife's day has gone by what she serves for dinner. Nights where we have a roast mean a good day, usually with no drama and lots of time, a day where a little effort doesn't go astray. On the other hand if we have pizza it's never a good sign, especially left over pizza; take away points to minimum effort. Spaghetti isn't a ten on the bad day scale, perhaps a seven, she wanted something that is enjoyable yet doesn't need constant supervision to prepare, generally because she's too distracted by something else. Nights like these are usually followed by leftovers the next dinner.

"Constructive" she replies with nonchalance, and a cute shrug of one shoulder. Nearly sixteen years of marriage and I still find her breathtaking. It's the little things, like the way she kinks her eyebrow when she is trying to be cute, or twitches her nose in an act of innocence, that come-hither look she sends at the most inappropriate moments, and most of all there is that dazzling smile. What I wouldn't give to make her smile.

"Where's Abby?" Brooke asks almost immediately after replying to me, her brow now creased in confusion, she turns to Sawyer and Keith for answers, Sawyer shrugs while Keith shakes his head, "I thought she was in your room?" I am not sure which one she is addressing but they both give the same response as before.

Getting up from the table I offer to go find our youngest. Abby has always been a stable force in our lives, between Sawyer's antics and Keith's health it's a relief to have one child that never gives us nightmares willingly or unwillingly. At the end of the day seeing her happy and healthy makes us feel like we're doing _something _right.

We've lived through the self blame, the anger, the need to fault somebody for the pain our family has been through. It almost destroyed us, so being able to just enjoy our lives, with each other and with our children; it really means the world to us. Abby always has a smile to share, and her stories are joyful and full of love and all the small things that make up a good life.

We need that. We need what it stands for.

"Abby?" I knock on her door and wait. Soon the sounds of someone shifting inside come through and then the door opens, her big hazel eyes appear somehow bluer today, and for a second I don't say anything because it feels different.

It takes me a moment to realise it's because there is no smile of welcome today, "dinner's ready" I say, she nods and steps out of the room closing the door behind her, and following her slow reluctant steps downstairs I don't remember ever having felt more inadequate.

...

"What time?" Brooke asks me after noticing for the fifth time I have checked my watch, I hold off answering by putting away the plate I had been drying. With my back turned I can still feel her watching me, "I said I would be there by eight thirty" and I turn back around empty handed, I grab for the tea towel again, grabbing another plate.

She simply nods and takes another glass.

Her eyes keep straying to me, after another long minute passes I stop what I'm doing and just look straight at her "what's on your mind?"

"I thought it would be nice if you ask Abby to go with you, maybe talk to her a bit"

I sigh, "You noticed too?"

She nods, her dark hair falling from behind her ear and across her face, the curtain of hair blocking me from seeing her face. It's a move Brooke never use to have, hiding her eyes from me so I can't read her. She shrugs as if she doesn't care when I know she cares about her children more than anything, "she didn't laugh, not once" and her voice cracks as she speaks.

Abby isn't the silent type, thoughtful yes, silent no.

"It's probably nothing-" Brooke continues casually, trying to no doubt convince herself as well as me "-but just in case..."

"I'll talk to her" and abandoning the dishes I go stand behind my wife and wrap my arms around Brooke, her hair tickles my nose as I rest my chin atop her head. I love her hair, it always smells amazing, always smells like her, it's the scent that hovers on our pillows and drives me to bury my nose in the soft fabric when too many hours have gone by without her.

In the last eighteen years Brooke has been my biggest constant, my main support, life without her is no longer an option. If she isn't around I constantly think about what she is thinking, what she is doing, how she is feeling, when I look up I expect her to be there and every time she isn't my heart falls just the slightest. Not many people are aware of it but we actually separated once, not long after Abby started school, it lasted three months, and then I was crawling back. Those three months are one of my biggest regrets, I can never get that time back, and I wish I could, just thinking about it makes me feel sick. It's not something I am proud of.

"I do love you Brooke Scott"

She sighs, leaning back into me, "I love you too, Lucas Scott"

I never stopped praying for a miracle to save my family, they aren't always answered and though Keith is still here there's still the shadow of death that haunts us, though I'm thankful that when I prayed for forgiveness it was granted.

...

The stars in the dark night sky seem to sparkle ten times brighter tonight, illuminating the river court and its view. Of course the lights help the court stand out, and as we drive up I can see Nathan already practicing, he plays basketball with a grace and skill as if he was a dancer and the game was the intricate tango.

Next to me Abby is silent. She had agreed to come with a quiet nod, showing no enthusiasm at the invitation yet at the same time leaving our home as if the devil was after her. As I park the car I turn to her, "you ready?"

Her face lifts up so quickly, her wide eyes looking deep into mine and if I didn't know better I would say that the look in those stormy depths was fearful. Scared and confused. I'm taken aback by the raw emotions, speechless for a moment, and then I swallow the lump in my throat and ask my question again.

Abby continues to stare at me, eventually she just opens the door and slips out, and still no word passes her lips. We might not have the best relationship, though for a father and daughter I would say we are close, I would even say that out of all my children I am closest to Abby. I don't have a favourite, or one I spoil more, as my mother has always said I spoil _all_ my children, so it's not something I have done on purpose, it's just the way it is – I am closer with Abby. In a world where things often don't make sense, in a family where things are often hard and confusing, she gets me.

And it's more than the fact she understands the feeling of holding that basketball between my hands and standing on a court, I can't exactly describe it. Abby has a gift of selflessness and empathy that touches us all, I think. She is easy to talk to and easy to listen to, and though I never thought she tells me everything I have never felt like she was keeping something from me before either.

Outside the car Nathan looks between Abby and me and then sends me a curious frown, I can practically hear him asking me why Abby has tagged along tonight, and I just smile back at him and hope he can read my message back, _don't ask._

Nathan shakes off his shock and placing the ball under one arm he jobs over and gives Abby his classic Uncle hug, "hey mini-Luke" he says in greeting. The nick name only Nate uses on Abby, and occasionally some of the other old river court gang do to. It's not because there is any striking resemblance between Abby and I, my youngest is a mix of recessive genes and a combination of Brooke and I, never really resembling one of us more than the other in her features or colouring, though every now and then I'll see an expression on her face and for a flash I would swear I'm seeing Brooke looking up at me. Nathan on the other hand swears than when he watches Abby on the basketball court he might as well be watching me, hence the nick name. For a moment Abby smiles, she doesn't have a dimple on each cheek that appears with any movement of her jaw like Brooke and Keith, she has a single dimple like Sawyer and me though Abby's is more noticeable, and it's appearing right now as she sinks into Nathan's shoulder.

As they let go of each other Nathan gives her a look up and down "which Scott do you wanna play with?" he asks with a cocky smile, not many people pick the high school coach over the former NBA star, not even my own children, and playing Nathan Scott is an experience all Tree Hill teenagers look forward to, which is why my brother is so good at what he does. Even I expect Abby to quickly respond with an answer, instead we are both shocked "I'm just going to watch" she says, already moving towards the picnic table by the court.

Over Abby's head my brother sends me a look and mouths _what's up with her? _And I shrug, I wish I knew. I can't imagine Abby having trouble at school and the idea my twelve year old daughter may be having _boy _trouble sends shivers down my spine. Hopefully this is not an area she takes after Brooke in. I don't think I could handle that... I might have to consider purchasing some sort of rifle in the near future. She's _twelve_; surely teenage drama can wait at least one year.

I spin around on my feet to follow Abby's departure with my eyes, "you sure we can't talk you into a game?" I call out and she turns back to face me just before she reaches the table, and walking backwards she waves her hand in dismissal "nuh, I like watching"

We leave her to her peace and continue our game, letting go of all our frustrations on the court, it is a therapy my brother and I have used for years. After twenty minutes I notice Abby has moved to sit on the grass under one of the lights, slipped her earphones in and is busy writing in a notebook, though even with her occupied having someone sit in that spot reminds me of when Brooke use to bring all the kids here to watch us play. It's been a few years since those visits, I wonder if Abby even remembers, is that why she chooses to sit in that particular spot?

"What's with mini-you?" Nathan asks, effortlessly stealing the ball from between my hands as he does so, then scores again. His legs keep running and he catches the ball before it hits the ground, spinning around Nathan throws it directly to me, I bounce it twice "no clue, Brooke thought bringing Abby tonight might open her up"

With a laugh Nathan looks over at Abby in her own little world "yeah, seems to be working"

I bounce the ball three times before lifting it above my head and jumping up as I let go and watch it soar towards the basket, it circles the brim twice before falling in, "I'm trying to not make it obvious, we don't want to push her-" I abruptly stop, pausing for a moment as I dart my eyes towards Nathan, he shifts his feet nervously at my deep stare "hey, Ty hasn't said anything has he?" I finally ask.

Nathan runs a hand through his dark hair, there isn't one single gray from what I can tell, unlike my fair hair, and then he shakes his head "I don't think so, why? You think he knows something?"

There may be four years difference between the cousins but Abby and Ty were like two peas in a pod, those two and Keith were always like the three musketeers, if any of their friends would know anything it would be Nathan and Haley's sixteen year old son, Tyler.

Mid jog for the ball Nathan stops, he turns back to me, suddenly thoughtful "actually, it's been a while since Abby's come around or called"

I stop to think about that, now it's been mentioned I can't remember the last time Ty's been to our place. Nathan must read my face because he then asks "a fight?"

"Maybe" I say back and look at Abby again.

I really hope it is that simple.

...

By the time Nathan drives off it is nearly ten, Abby still is lost in whatever she is listening to and whatever she is writing, I'm not even sure she notices when I sit down right next to her. My body aches, I'm older now and feel the game in a way I never use to, so a non pleasant moan escaped my throat as I part my bent knees and rest my arms on them.

From the corner of her eyes Abby watches me, a smile curling her lips. Well, at least my momentary pain can get a smile to grace that pretty face.

She takes the earphones from her ears, one by one, letting them fall forgotten into her lap "we done?" she asks, her eyes quickly darting away from mine as if she can't look at me for too long. I frown.

Still frowning I turn away from her and look out at the view, I ignore her impatience to leave and just soak in my environment and barely even knowing what I'm about to say I find myself speaking "you use to sit in this same spot when you were little. Your mom use to bring you kids down here to watch us, sometimes Haley would bring Jamie and Ty. Brooke would lean against this light with one or all of you in her arms and cheer me on" I sigh then. My eyes still look around, "and there-" I point to the table she sat at earlier "-that is where she use to watch me from back in high school" and even as I speak I'm transported back into the past.

"I told her she was the biggest part of my world right over there-" I point to another spot, and then I glimpse another "there is where I first answered who I wanted next to me when all my dreams came true, it's where I said her name, and that is where I made the destiny shot-" and so lost in Brooke's smiling face and the past I keep pointing out all the places from our past "-that spot right there in the middle is where we cried after she heard I had HCM, she held me as if she would never let me go" that memory forces me to stop and take a breath. A teary Brooke done up in her Ravens cheerleading uniform won't leave my head, I never meant to hurt her, she should have found out from me but telling Brooke would have made it all too real. It had never felt more real than that night in her arms, seeing the fear in her eyes had been almost if not just as worse as seeing it in my mothers.

I can feel Abby now watching me so I force a smile and try to remember a better memory, and then I see that spot by the side of the court "and right under that tree... that is where your mom first told me she loved me... the second time around" no need to reveal how it had been days after I'd said it to her again, that it had been a source of many fights before she'd found me here and finally said the words I'd ached to hear.

"You're happy?" Abby's question drags me out of the overwhelming memory.

I snap my head to look at her and I can feel my brow creasing, she looks at me so intensely "you and mom, you're really happy, aren't you?" she explains her question more and I nod.

"Yeah, we're happy. You know, sometimes it may be hard, but I don't know how I would get through it all without her love, without your mom, Sawyer, Keith and you it would just be harder" there is no simpler way to say it.

Yes, I am happy; despite everything that has happened in my life I am very happy.

"What if something was to happen?" Abby now asks, her voice laced with fear, and as I look into her eyes to try to decipher what exactly she is really asking Abby averts her face so I can't see her properly.

"Things always happen, Abs, some things we can't stop as hard as we try, but as long as we don't give up, as long as we stay true to ourselves and those we love, then it will be all right"

I'm speaking about Keith, because I can't help but assume now that this has to do with him. We all know his health is deteriorating again, and it is only a matter of time til Keith has to have another operation.

Even after I speak Abby doesn't look at me, if anything her head lowers even more. In the next moment she is gathering the rest of her things and hurriedly returning to the car, it's during her get away that I finally notice the absence of Abby's charm bracelet, my body still aching by the time I'm standing she is already half way to the car.

Despite everything I am happy, sometimes deliriously so, I always thought that it was the same for them.

...

The drive home was silent, and as soon as the front door shuts behind us Abby is running up to her room, I watch her until she's gone from my view and then I follow the light.

Soft music fills the living room, it's on so low I can't even hear the words, the only light is coming from the glow of the fireplace and Brooke sits with her legs curled at her side between one of the couches and the coffee table. A half empty glass of wine in front of her and a stack of designs spread across the table, she places her pencil down and rubs her neck before taking a sip of wine.

"You look beautiful"

Brooke jumps at my voice, her free hand goes to her chest and once she collects herself Brooke smiles, "I didn't know you were home". I kick off my shoes and quickly make my way to her, bending over and kissing the top of her head, there is that scent I love so much. It smells just like home.

"Where's Abby?"

"She went to bed" I know she wants to know what happened but I'm not sure what exactly did happen with Abby at the river court, I slip in behind her and pull her into my chest and wrap my legs around her.

She sighs as I nuzzle her neck, "dance with me" I ask suddenly, an urge over taking me. Brooke laughs "Luke" she whines.

"What? I want to dance with my wife" and I am already pulling her up and holding one of her hands I drag Brooke towards the stereo and turn the volume up. She stops resisting once I wrap both arms around Brooke and pull her against me once again. Her head rests just above my heart and one of her hands finds the spot where my heart lays, I pull her closer still.

For a while I am lost in the dance, and then a noise alerts me that we are no longer alone, I open one eye and see Abby at the top of the stairs, hidden behind the wall only one hand and her face is on show. I don't think she knows I can see her, but even in the dark there is enough light that I can read her expressive eyes. There is no fear in them at the moment, and once again I am confused. She looks so guilty, so guilty and sorry. Then she is gone.

All my preconceptions fly out the window, everything I thought to tell Brooke now seems irrelevant. An estrangement with Ty could explain a quiet mood, and worry about Keith can explain that conversation at the river court, however my mind cannot come up with a reason to explain that look I just saw on my daughter's face. What does Abby have to be sorry for? I shake my head, I must have imagined it.

Brooke looks up "Luke?"

I don't know how to answer her so I kiss her instead, it's not the best move, I should say something, and I should explain it to her. I pull away ready to speak, then I catch a glimpse of the designs that Brooke is working on, I remember she is already worried about each of the kids for a different reason, not enough yet to get in the way of her creative flow, not enough yet that she doesn't give into my plea for a dance, not enough yet that she doesn't sink into my kiss. So I say nothing, not yet, we can always worry when the sun comes up. With one finger I lift her chin and then I cup her cheek with one hand, gently I bend down to kiss her again.

Just not yet, I tell myself.

-x-

_I'm hanging on _

_Another day_

_Just to see what_

_You will throw my way_

_And I'm hanging on _

_To the words you say_

_You said I will_

_Will be okay_

_The broken lights on the freeway_

_Left me here alone_

_I may have lost my way now_

_Haven't forgotten my way home_

_I'm falling apart_

_I'm barely breathing_

_With a broken heart _

_That's still beating_

_In the pain_

_There is healing_

_In your name_

_I find meaning_

_So I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm barely holding on to you_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm holding on (I'm still holding)_

_I'm barely holding on to you_

-_Broken, Lifehouse_


	5. What If

**disclaimer: i wish i owned one tree hill and i wish i had the skill of jodi picoult, but i like to think i still have time for both of those things.**

_And what if it makes you _

_Sad at me?_

_And what if it makes you laugh now_

_But you cry as you fall asleep?_

_And what if it takes your breath_

_And you can't hardly breathe?_

_And what if it makes the last sound_

_Be the very best sound?_

_What if what I want makes you _

_Sad at me?_

_And is it all my fault_

_Or can I fix it, please?_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

_And what if it makes you lose_

_Faith in me?_

_And what if it makes you question_

_Every moment you cannot see?_

_And what if it makes you crash_

_And you can't find the key?_

_And what if it makes you ask_

_How you could let it all go?_

_What if what I want makes you_

_Sad at me?_

_And is it all my fault_

_Or can I fix it please?_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

_Always all for you_

-x-

Chapter Five

_*Abby*_

I don't know what my first memory is; you know how some people talk about their earliest memory. I don't know mine. It's hard enough trying to remember if I got that new basketball last Christmas or the one before that, let alone trying to decipher which memory was the first ever one I ever got. How can someone tell?

There is a few that stand out from when I was really little, memories that seem so much brighter and larger than possible, I guess I remember them that way because everything was so big and beautiful when I was little. Everything was so new. I remember Keith in hospital a lot, his head as smooth as a babies, I remember the new bike Sawyer got for her birthday one year, Tyler ripping the head off my barbie, stuff like that which resonates as sort of earlier than everything else. Then there are my parents.

Smiling or crying. Laughing or screaming. Sometimes as still as statues, and then there are the memories of sneaking down stairs when I know I should be asleep and instead watching them dance. They do that a lot, just dance, as if they found any excuse to touch each other.

I think when I was about seven I shared a room with Sawyer for about two weeks, there was some damage to the roof and they took me out of my room while it was fixed and repainted the once pale yellow walls a cool blue. During that time I was in a bed on the far side of Sawyer's room, I remember how excited I was to share a room with my much older and cooler sister who wore make up just like Mom. Sawyer hadn't shared the same enthusiasm; I touched things I wasn't meant to and seemed to move everything just when she needed to find it, and I snored too loudly, spoke too loudly and walked too loudly and cluttered up her space. After a week Sawyer rolled her eyes at me and told me that there was only one solution – we split the room in half. I had to stay on my side and she had to stay on hers and never the 'tween shall meet, this way her stuff was protected from me. I was a bit put off by this seeing Sawyer's stuff was really cool but the side that was 'my' designated half had the TV, the CD player _and _I'd already taken Sawyer's favourite lipstick and hidden it under my pillow. Not to mention her hair dryer had been left on top of one of my boxes of toys, I also remember the satisfaction of knowing she'd forgotten that and then after shaking hands and agreeing that if either one of us broke the agreement and touched one inch of the other persons side the penalty would be _death_ (which I actually believed she would be able to do), anyway, after that I made a show of playing with her dryer and watching tv with the monitor facing away from Sawyer's side. For once I'd outsmarted my big sis.

Then Mom called us downstairs, it was time to go to the Ravens game and watch Dad coach the team to another win. With a smirk Sawyer had rolled off her bed and walked right out the bedroom door – which was on _her _side of the room.

I stood there with my mouth open for what seemed like hours, but I'm sure now was probably only a few seconds, my mind contemplating my dire situation that I would never be able to leave this room. Not ever. I would never see my new blue room, or go to school, or eat dinner, or go to the toilet. I was going to starve to death. Ideas flew in my mind, like maybe I could climb out the window. That idea had started to look really good by the time Mom came upstairs to look for me.

She'd kinked a brow at me standing there, "don't you want to watch Daddy's game, short stuff?"

Tears brimming at my eyes I had nodded, biting my lip in an attempt not to just break down.

"Come on then, everyone's waiting"

"I _can't_" the admission finally did it and the tears fell freely.

Quicker than a blink Mom was by my side "what's up, honey?"

I then explained the problem, my shoes softly touching the pillows that made up the barrier between our sides. Mom had looked from one side to the other, and then she placed her hands on her hips and stood.

"Dance with me" was all she said.

I also remember feeling shocked that my mom wanted to dance, my life was about to end and she wanted to _dance_.

She had insisted, and when Brooke Scott insists something it's very hard to say no. So against my will and scared that I would be trapped forever I hopped up into my mothers arms as she wrapped an arm around my waist and with her free hand held my hand up as if we were dancers, then she span me around and up in the air as we danced right over onto Sawyers side of the room. I'd realised what had happened and started screaming and clinging to my Mom, begging her to put me back.

"Are you touching Sawyer's side?" her calm voice cut into my sobs forcing me to stop and think about it. Safe up in my mom's arms I wasn't touching anything but her, hesitantly I had shaken my head.

My dad had appeared in the door then, "what's going on?" and my mother explained my problem. Dad had nodded and walked over to collect me from Mom's arms, he lifted me high into the air above his head and the world span around me. My tears were replaced with giggles as my parents exchanged me from one to the other all the way to the car where Keith and Sawyer waited. It seemed in that moment that dancing solved everything.

…

Keith's care is Mom's domain, it's a basic truth that is never spoken but known by everyone, she is the one who talks to the doctors and signs the papers and drives Keith to dialysis three times a week. I'm sure my father has some say however we just might not _see _it happen before our eyes. This has never been questioned by us kids. Right now Mom sits beside Keith while his blood leaves his body through one needle, gets cleaned, then goes back into his body through another needle. Mom use to always ask if it hurts, she is always asking that question, after a while she stopped asking when it came to dialysis. Keith never looks in pain and he says mostly its just boring. It takes two hours, two very long hours where we have to sit in this room, technically I can walk out and go up three floors to the rec room (which is practically like a second room to me, hey, this hospital is practically our second home) but I don't like to leave Keith alone while I go play games, it just doesn't seem fair. He reads half the time, and I catch up on my homework or we battle on the DS. Sometimes we play this game, its simple, you have to study someone and try to guess what they are thinking and other stuff about their lives. Like are they married? Where are they going? Why are they in the hospital?

Keith likes to make up happy stories, Sawyer always answers with _"I don't know…" _and then follows it up with some half hearted observation before she refuses playing and does something else. Mom is really careful; she seems to put a lot of thought into it, sometimes giving reasons for her explanations because of what type of shoes the person is wearing. Her stories aren't always happy, but they seem to carry a lot of truth in them and out of anyone's I'm more likely to believe what she comes up with.

"What about her?" Mom points to a nurse walking down the hall which is visible through the open doorway.

"Too obvious" Keith claims.

I'm not really paying attention to what they're saying, my mind is slightly distracted by the needles and the tubes and the whole hospital. My brother is dying, and no matter how much we fight it sooner or later nothing we do will stop it. Everyone dies eventually, but honestly I don't naturally think Keith and then think _he's dying. _I know a lot of people think that way, like his name is connected to cancer and death and the end. People tend to give you some leeway when your brother is the dying kid, but he's my brother and he is just so alive to me, so here and now and important. A world without Keith wouldn't even make sense. So, seeing him here in a hospital like this is like a slap in the face. Keith _is _dying, and nothing I can do will change that, nothing I've done so far has changed it and nothing I will do can change it.

"Ooh, Gerry is here, he looks official" Mom says.

That catches my attention. The only Gerry I know in Tree Hill is Gerry Vartan and he's a sheriff, and when I look sure enough it is his chubby figure I see walking down the hospital hallway. Our family knows Gerry well for two reasons, one) his son Chad use to be one of Dads best players, and, two) he's a Tree Hill County Sheriff, and thanks to Sawyer he knows our address and phone number off by heart, if it wasn't for his sympathetic heart my sister would end up in a lot more trouble than she gets into.

He looks concerned and it's not until he frowns when my mother waves at him that my heart sinks and it hits me what this means. I don't want to be here for this, I can't be here for this, and I can't let Keith see this. The urge to run over takes me and I go to move, to stand or twitch my foot, but I can't.

I'm frozen in fear as Gerry comes closer and closer.

"Hey Gerry, fancy seeing you here, everything alright?" my mom asks, her signature dimpled smile on show, though her eyes are creased in concern. That's the type of person she is, her son is next to her hooked to a machine which his health depends on and she's worried about the cop who looks slightly stressed.

"Mrs S" he nods at my mom and uses the name anyone connected to the Ravens basketball team uses for her, Coach S and Mrs S, that's what half the population of Tree Hill know my parents as.

"Gerry, you okay?" she asks again, and he shifts his feet, grabbing a document from under his arm he holds it uncertainly as if he doesn't know what to do with it, "I'm sorry, Mrs S, I didn't want to be the one but I ah-" he stumbles over words to say "-your name was on the list, I, ah-"

"What?" Mom looks confused, and then she looks at the paper in his hand "Gerry, are you trying to tell me someone is _suing _me?"

He nods, "you've been served" and finally hands the document over.

I close my eyes shut as tight as possible and wait for the world to explode.

"What is…?" Mom's voice trails off and I feel her eyes suddenly burn into me.

Next is Keith's voice, "Mom?" he conveys such worry and question with one simple syllable.

It's a whisper "medical emancipation?" she sounds so heart broken, so confused.

I want to fade away into the dark; I want to make this stop, all of it. It has to be easier than this, maybe there was another way. But there isn't, I have to do this because no one else can.

The next time Mom speaks its anger in her voice "Abby, what did you _do_?"

Please. Please. Please. Make me disappear. Please can I just dance my way out of this, out of the confusion and out of the plans that nobody bothers to ask us about. Just dance my way right out of this hospital and away from my family.

"_What did you do?"_ she asks again.

I finally open my eyes and it's not Mom I see, it's Keith.

And this time when I ask my feet to move they do, and I run right out of there.

For a moment I think Mom is going to follow but I hear Keith call her, he says he's in pain, and she falters not knowing who to go to. I can _feel _her indecision but then it's just gone and I'm free as two nurses rush by me on their way to the room Keith is in, answering my mother's frantic beeps for help.

There is no way I can dance my way out of here, and I doubt my mother would be my partner this time.

…

Three hours later I'm sitting next to my older cousin as he drops me off at home, he hadn't wanted to come and pick me up, Ty didn't say it but I knew he didn't want to be involved in this but he'd come and got me anyway and then driven to a secluded park and sat with me as our phones went crazy. He didn't speak to me, didn't acknowledge me at all, Ty just strummed on his guitar and rehearsed his songs. My cousin is a beautiful specimen, his skin is a dusky cream and his thick almost black hair is cut lazily so it falls over his eyes in even a way I could appreciate despite not yet being thirteen and also being related to him. His dusky skin and dark hair set off his pale blue eyes, and his silky voice comes out from between thick lips over a square jaw, he has Uncle Nate's cocky smile and he often wears it when he knows he's on a role with a song.

As soon as he'd decided enough was enough Ty got up and went back to the car, still without a word, so I had followed him in a rush. Now we were in front of my house and he was leaving me to face the music alone.

"This thing you're doing, I don't care why, I think it's wrong" they are his first words to me since the hospital.

I get he thinks its wrong, I get that everyone will think it's wrong, but what right do they have to say that to me, after everything? When did anyone question if cutting me up and using me as a live donor to prolong Keith's life was wrong, huh? Where were their opinions then?

"That's your right" I say with a clenched jaw.

He shakes his head as if _I _refuse to get it and starts the car in a clear sign for me to get my ass out, it hurts, okay, it hurts a lot but I can't back out now, "Don't call me til it's over" but as he finishes that sentence I can't help but wonder if it'll ever be over.

No, I don't think whatever started today will ever truly be over. I don't say that, I give a curt nod and do what he wants – I get out.

It's nearly seven o'clock but the kitchen is empty, so is the table, the whole house feels void of life but I find Sawyer and Keith in the living room watching TV.

Keith won't look at me.

Fair hair falling down one shoulder, Sawyer shifts to make room for me but I don't move, "how bad?" I ask instead.

My brother still won't meet my eyes but at least he speaks, "they're in the garage. Mom went in there as soon as we got home"

You know the sensation you get on a roller coaster as you're falling, you're upside down and unsure for a moment if you are really safe or about to fall to your death. Do you get that? That question mark on your safety. That fear, that drop of your guts and heart, the breath being kicked from your lungs.

It's that pumping through your body the moment you wake up from a nightmare. I'm not waking up, this isn't some dream it is my life.

The garage, the significance of that is not lost on any one of us. On the bad scales the garage is pretty bad. It may sound like nothing but that's where they go when they are completely lost, we know that, how many times had we hovered by the garage doors worried as they cried inside. There is only one thing inside the garage, and that is the comet. The car which meant so much to Peyton Sawyer Scott, I never met her, she died when Sawyer was only a few weeks old, she died in that very car, but I feel like I know her. I know a lot about her, lots and lots of facts, lots of stories, some sad, most of them funny or amazing, I know she was my Mom's best friend and my Dad was married to her, and I know that even though Sawyer calls Mom, _Mom_, her biological mother is really Peyton. I know she was important, and I know that Mom and Dad go sit in that car when things are bad for some sort of strength or _something _from the long gone woman. Sawyer told me once that for years the comet still held all the damage from the accident, but I don't remember, for as long as I've known it's been in perfect condition. They even gave it to Sawyer for her sixteenth birthday, she'd said no, and that she wanted a jeep she saw in the paper. Later Sawyer told me she didn't want it because she thinks its haunted or something, I didn't believe her, I think she just didn't want it because compared to what it means to our parents it means nothing to her. So it stays in the garage, Mom and Dad's own personal 'fortress of solitude'.

They must have heard Ty's car and come to see if I was back because the next thing I know my parents are standing in front of me.

"Explain" is all my mother says.

"I went to a lawyer-"

"Obviously, Abby, I want to know _why_? _Why now? Why this? _Why?"

I flinch with each question, Dad grabs Mom by the shoulders to hold her back from me, I don't know what he's afraid of, I know one thing, and that is Mom would never hurt me. No matter how angry she is. But Dad holds her back "Brooke, calm down"

"NO! I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!" and she shrugs out of his arms, "_why?"_

"I can't do it anymore" and unable to look at any of them I lower my eyes.

Mom scoffs, I can hear it, I can hear the disbelieve in her tone, "you don't get a choice, _none _of us got a choice in any of this, you don't get to give up, _you don't get to give up!_"

I'm not so sure anymore that she wouldn't hurt me if Dad wasn't gripping her arms in a tight hold again, I'm frozen in the spot watching my Mom in her rage.

"Brooke! We promised we'd listen to her" Dad says cuttingly but it doesn't faze her, she just looks at me with big eyes. So much like Keith's, it's like I'm looking straight into him. It's her turn to flinch, and she turns into my fathers arms, her anger directed at the moment towards him.

"Abby wouldn't do this, Abby wouldn't want this"

How would she know, she never asked me?

"You never asked me" I whisper.

Mom turns slowly to look back at me.

I repeat it, "you never asked me what I wanted"

"Do you want to kill your brother?" she shoots back in a blink, I'm amazed with the speed of that question.

"No" I say back just as quickly, it feels like I was shot.

"Because that's what you're doing, you are killing him" I know its fear speaking, I know that, I know she is scared and upset.

But she's wrong, I'm not the one killing him and I won't let her put that on me, "No, Mom, cancer did"

Her face goes five shades whiter, and the whole room drops silent. I swear the clock even stopped ticking. Maybe time stopped.

I wait, we all wait, for her to make the next move, but her shoulders drop and she just shakes her pale face, and then she puts up her hand and walks away. Dad follows, and the breath I'd been holding finally escapes slowly from between my lips and my heart starts beating again.

Next Keith leaves for his room and now it's just Sawyer and me, I look at her for some sort of answer, which is ridiculous, even I know that, she shrugs "don't worry, being the outsider doesn't completely suck".

…

There was a moment when I was seven years old where I thought all problems could be solved by dancing, I remember thinking that, thinking that dancing could solve anything because it was magical and as long as I kept dancing and as long as I followed my mother's steps then nothing could go wrong.

I was very young and very sure, and also I was very naïve.

-x-

_And if this be_

_Our last conversation,_

_If this be_

_The last time that we speak for awhile_

_Don't lose hope_

_And don't let go_

_Cause you should know_

_If it makes you sad_

_If it makes you sad at me_

_Then it's all my fault_

_And let me fix it, please._

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

_What if what I want makes you_

_Sad at me?_

_And if it's all my fault_

_Then let me fix it please_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

'_Cause you know that I'm always_

_All for you_

_Always all for you_

_- What if, Safety Suit_

**thanx for reading and reviewing (hint hint), and a special mention to allie, melissa, jill, melly, tanya, elena, and alex for reviewing last chapter. and now about the challenge, the winner, with an amazing speed of answering with the correct answer like mere seconds after reviewing she had no idea, is... othfan326 aka Allie. but i would also like to mention elena aka typokween because not knowing allie had pmed me the answer elena answered it and her one was just so thoughtful that well it has to get a mention, so they both are classed as winners in my books and deserve a prize. which im not a hundred percent sure what it will be, how about be written into the story??? like ill name a character after you guys. which works for me 'caus i happen to like both names.**

**othfan326's answer... "i think i got it!!!! 1x09 is a big reference to lucas' love of john steinbeck books, so is abby - short for abra - based on the character Abra Bacon in "East of Eden" by John Steinbeck???????"**

**typokween's answer..."Okay, so I think I may have figured out this mystery behind the name. 109 was definitely a turning point for BL. She read a book for him, and he got drunk and permanently inked his skin for life for her. Now, I've given this a lot of thought and deep google searching and I think I may have come up with something. Okay, so in 109 Luke gets Brooke to read John Steinbeck's, 'The Winter of Our Discontent.' Now, Luke is a known author and we all know how fond he is of Steinbeck. So I started to think about the novel he had Brooke read but then I was like, that's too easy. So I looked into other characters in other books because frankly 'The Winter of Our Discontent' is quite depressing and leaves not too much hope for the reader. BUT, East of Eden leaves its reader with a more hopeful ending and in that Book gives us the kind hearted character... wait for it... ABRA Bacon. Abra is like Brooke in a way. Both come from rich families with parents whom they cannot confide in. Both latch onto parental figures who are not biologically their own. Example: Brooke wishes Karen was her own Mother, Abra wished Lee was her father. Anyways, this is my answer to the riddle. I may be totally off and missed the entire point but for now this is how I think she got her name. ;)"**

**congrads u two. :)**

**luv, mickei b**


	6. It's Not Over

**disclaimer: i so don't own anything, and if i did own oth i so wouldnt admit to being involved with the show right now *shakes head***

**first off i would just like to say thank you to everyone reading and alerting this story, and a bigger thank you to those who are taking the time to actually review it, major hugs, reviews are what make me itch to keep writing so a big thanx to alex, rosa, allie, mel, jill, and elena.**

_I was blown away, what could I say?_

_It all seemed to make sense_

_You're taking away everything_

_And I can't do without_

_I try to see the good in life_

_But good things in life are hard to find_

_We're blowing away, blowing away_

_Can we make this something good?_

_Well, I'll try to do it right this time around_

_Let's start over_

_I'll try to do it right this time around_

_It's not over_

'_Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground_

_This love is killing me but you're the only one_

_It's not over_

_I've taken all I can take and I cannot wait_

_We're wasting too much time_

_Being strong, holding on_

_Can't let it bring us down_

-x-

Chapter Six

_*Brooke*_

When I was a child I use to have a lot of sleepless nights, ones where I stayed up waiting for a kiss goodnight that never came, or wondered why my parents didn't seem to love me like other parents, or nights where I was kept awake by their yelling and screaming, and I wondered why they couldn't love _each other_. As a teenager my sleepless nights were for a different reason – parties, boys, parties, and more boys.

There have always been reasons to stop me sleeping, then I moved into this house and I seemed to get a whole new life. New home, new chance at love, new family, and a lot of good nights, and it felt so good. I had that for four years. Then my nights got shorter again.

Tonight sleep hasn't come at all, I tossed and turned and I really did try but sleep won't claim me. Last night just took so much out of me. The way Abby spoke, as if it's already too late.

Next to me Lucas' warm body sleeps peacefully, and a part of me wonders how he can sleep so soundly, another part of me is just grateful to have his still figure wrapped around me without having to worry about him as well. I envy him his sleep. What dream is his escape? I wish I could just close my eyes and enter a different world, one where my son is healthy, and my children are safe and happy, one where we are all together without burdens.

After tossing and turning some more I carefully creep out of Lucas' hold and make my way out of our room and through the house. Curiosity gets the better of me and my feet instinctively go straight to Abby's room. The door is wide open and the light from outside sends a pale glow through the room allowing me to see the unmade bed is empty. Abby's soft blue room is a mix of a little girl and a blossoming teenager, for example there aren't as many stuffed toys as there use to be, the remaining ones all have more of a sentimental purpose than anything else. Sometimes it's not what you keep, but why you keep it. I shake my head and turn away from the room, already knowing in my heart where I will find my daughter, and sure enough when I walk by Keith's room I see them both on his bed, Abby with her head resting on Keith's chest. At first I think they are both sleeping, and I have every intention of stepping quietly into the room and covering them with a rug before kissing them goodnight. I failed to say goodnight to them earlier, the pain of that makes me pause at the door, and before I get the chance to follow through with my intention, I hear Keith's quiet voice.

"I don't blame you"

For a second I think he's talking to me, my heart freezes, I lift a hand to my chest and prepare to respond and then Abby's whisper echoes through the silent room, "but if it wasn't for me-"

"Abs, promise me you won't ever give up, promise me"

"Keith… please"

"I can take it if you don't want to be my sister anymore, but I don't think I'd be able survive you not being my friend" my son says back, sounding so young and small for his fifteen years. He still is so young; he deserves to have a full life with endless possibilities, not this half existence he's been forced with so far, I just want to be able to give him a chance to do everything he wants to do.

They don't know I'm there so I backtrack and quickly go downstairs to the kitchen, and I grab a glass of water and an aspirin before sitting down in the family room with an old photo album. Without thought I flip it open, my eyes meet the random page and tears start to build up, I feel the pressure under my eyes and it's a strain to stop them from falling. I try to smile as I look over the page of photos, all from a family trip to the beach years ago when Abby had only just started walking. The third picture has me sitting beside a sandcastle, Sawyer stands behind me with an arm around my neck, her blue eyes pop in the photo and her blonde hair hangs in damp, dark piggy tails, and her smile has a shyness I haven't seen with Sawyer in years. In the photo Abby sits in my lap, looking at the sandcastle as if she wasn't sure if it was safe or not, her little hand clinging to my bikini top. Keith's voice pops back into my head, _promise me you won't ever give up, promise me_. And another memory takes over.

That night is one I will never be able to forget, even after seven years it's always still there, every time we go to a hospital or every time I see the ocean. The echo of the door slamming behind Lucas after walking inside vibrates through my mind like it did the house all those years ago, I had dumped my purse down and massaged my head, "this isn't happening" a mumble under my breath.

But it was happening, after nearly five years the tests had come back not in our favour. The cancer was back and Keith, only eight years old, was in hospital again. Behind me Lucas kicked the door, then after a moment of silence he started kicking it over and over again, swearing as he did so. He scared me, though not enough to deny the instinct to go to him, and the moment I'd touched his shoulder Lucas turned to me, burying his wet face into my neck. We'd clung to each other, crying, eventually sinking to the floor still in front of our front door, his hands gripped me tighter, almost painfully, his lips against my neck started to move across my skin, and still crying, our mouths found each other.

It was quick, and no clothes were stripped only moved far enough out of the way for the most basic of connections. For the briefest of moments we pretended to forget the battle ahead, and proved to each other we were both still alive, we could feel pleasure, and even a different kind of pain. Afterwards we cried some more, before Lucas had lifted me up into his arms and carried me to our bed upstairs, neither one of us wanted to talk. After all, we had every word the doctor said still in our heads to think about.

Like always Lucas fell asleep quickly, his arms trapping me to his side, and that night not even the smooth breathing of Lucas in sleep could help calm me enough for my own dreams. I had laid there wide awake staring at the wall across from me, praying that there had been some mistake. For hours I didn't move, then the ticking of the clock was getting too loud for me, sneaking from under Lucas' arm I had left our room and quickly pulled on some clothes.

I don't know what drove me that night; maybe I was determined for one more night of some sort of normal life before we all got wrapped up in the drama again. No matter the reason, I tip toed inside Sawyer's room and had shaken her awake, whispering for her to get dressed before slipping out and going to Abby's room. Even as I was changing Abby into warm clothes she was still half asleep, but by the time I'd lead both girls into the car they were wide awake.

"Where we going, Mom?" Sawyer had asked as we drove away from the house.

Smiling I'd replied "It's a surprise" and when we got to the beach and I opened their doors they'd both exclaimed in excitement.

Before the sun even rose I had built a small bonfire with my daughters, and danced along the shore, we laughed and talked, and for a few hours I did forget what was waiting back home.

Then wrapped in a blanket with Sawyer and Abby we sat by the fire and watched the sun rise over the horizon, it was a new day, and soon I would have to tell them the truth. I should have told them about Keith but I didn't want to ruin the beach for them, or those few perfect hours, so I had tucked them closer to me, "girls, I need you to make me a promise"

Sawyer narrowed her blue eyes at me, already knowing something was wrong no doubt, "Mom?"

I'd smiled, then kissed the top of her head, then Abby's, "promise me you won't ever give up, no matter what life throws at you, never give up"

All was silent after my words, Abby was the first to nod and then Sawyer, we didn't speak after that, we continued to watch the sun rise and the flames die. That was how Lucas found us, still early in the morning my husband had silently made his way to us and sat down, "I got your note" was all he said.

I wish I could say we had that family moment stay perfect, but it never really was perfect, no matter how it stands out as magical in my memories, because someone was missing, and we did go home eventually. As soon as that door shut behind us again we had to talk about it, we had to tell the girls and we had to figure out how exactly we were going to cope with this. For over a month all Lucas and I did was talk about it, actually that is an understatement, mainly we _screamed _and _yelled_. We might have gotten a few hours to forget but that night started chain reactions that would forever change our family in more ways than one. A few perfect hours, followed by months of painful misery, because once we stopped talking about it that front door slammed once more vibrating through the house, only this time we were on different sides of it.

"Come back to bed"

Lucas' voice brings me back to the present, and for a moment, a memory echoes in my head.

_Come back to me._

I look up and send him a big false smile over my shoulder, and my husband tilts his head, his eyes telling me more than anything that he doesn't fall for my fake smile, "why?" I say with no enthusiasm, and turn away "it's not like I'll be able to sleep". With one last glance at the snapshot I slowly shut the album; once the smiling faces are gone I feel Lucas' strong hands on my shoulders.

"If you take one-" Lucas begins but I stop him and shake my head.

Hugging the album to my chest I stand up, knocking his hands away from me, "No, Luke, I'm not going to take a pill to make everything better, you know I hate them" and even as I speak he's coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, I lean back into him grateful for the steady beating of his heart.

Lucas whispers near my ear, his breath tickling my hair "you need to sleep" and I smile at the worry, but frown at the situation, with another little shake of my head and leaning further into him, I reply quietly "No, I need a miracle"

"Okay, but first sleep"

"No jokes Lucas, I cannot handle that… I can't handle any of this" and as if on cue my right hand begins to shake, I use my left to control it but nothing can completely take away what is happening to me at the moment.

It's one thing after the other, and though I do my best to try to have life run smoothly, to look like I've got it all under control, the truth is I am barely holding myself together. I can't even remember the last time I slept for more than three hours in a row, and I refuse to become dependent on the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed. When exactly did my life get taken over by doctors?

When Candice gave us the diagnosis, when Edward suggested having another child to save Keith, or somewhere lost before, between or after that?

"How did we get here" I murmur aloud, looking for an answer I will never get, "out of all the things I thought could go wrong I never saw this coming" I've had nightmares about Keith dying, of losing Sawyer and Abby in a swift blow, even of the doctor saying they have cancer too. Nightmares where my whole family is gone and there is nothing I can do about it. Sometimes I wake up screaming, sometimes my pillow is stained with tears, and then there are times when I wake up and wish I didn't have to open my eyes at all. But I do have to, I have to get up and keep moving, keep living, keep surviving, I have to keep fighting because the moment I give up is the moment my family falls apart. Yet here I am, and it still seems like we're all falling to pieces.

"There was no way you could have known" Lucas reassures me, and I think back to yesterday morning when he told me about the night before. Everything made sense now, from the silence to the guilt but it just doesn't feel right.

I turn around and look into my husbands eyes; does he question this like I do?

"How can I believe this is what Abby truly wants? This is the girl who still sneaks into Keith's bed, who I had to hold in my arms as she cried every time Keith didn't come home, this is _Abby_, our Abby, and last night… that wasn't her"

"We heard her and whether we like it or not, for now, we do have to believe her. Maybe for the first time we really have to listen to what Abby has to say" his words should make all the sense in the world, except for one thing.

If I listen to Abby I have to ignore Keith, and how am I expected to choose between my children when only one of their lives hangs in the balance. It would be easy to comfort Abby, tell her everything is going to be okay, that I am here for her, but then what am I meant to say when her brother is gone and this time he won't ever come home. How long do I hold her in my arms and take in her pain then, when she could have prevented it all along.

I rest my head again Luke's chest, "I could listen to her forever and still never understand, but I'm going to try-" I nod decisively "-as hard as I can, I'm going to try"

That is all I ever seem to do.

When I first moved into this house the first thing I did was plant the roses by the porch, they're the same deep red as blood, in the years since I've often crushed the petals in my hands and wondered if they could feel any pain, and what would it be like to not feel anything at all, to simply live and bring beauty to the world. I imagine it's not as great as it sounds, to feel nothing. That's why I never think about it for too long.

I stand and leave my nearly empty coffee mug by the porch, it is seven in the morning and all thoughts of sleep are long abandoned. Pulling my thick robe tighter around my body I hug myself as I make my way around the wrap around porch and into the back yard, following the steps down and across the path I enter the garage and sigh, "I could really use my best friend right now"

Soon I find myself sitting in the driver's seat; my head leaning back as I stare up at the roof, "what's the right thing to do?" I ask even as my voice cracks.

The silence that greets me seems even more still than normal and for the first time I don't feel Peyton here. Great, even my friendly ghost is stepping out of this one, "Great help you are".

"Mom?"

Abby's voice startles me and I jump up, "hey honey"

"Can I… can I sit with you?" she asks nervously, practically shaking where she stands, and it hits me. My daughter is afraid, and she's afraid of me. Trying to hide exactly what that realisation does to me I pat the spot next to me, "I saved a spot for you"

For a moment a relieved smile breaks Abby's serious look and then she runs to the comet and jumps in. I wrap an arm over her shoulder and drag her to my side, no words between us. Our heavy breathing echoes through the garage, perfectly matching each other, and then Abby sighs.

I stroke her hair, "whatever is on your mind, you can tell me, hope you know that"

"But that's the thing Mom, I can't"

And it doesn't get much clearer than that. And I wonder when did my baby girl grow up? Time has gone by so fast, sooner rather than later they'll all be gone, living their lives and they won't need me anymore, it's hard to believe that the day for that has already come because I still need them. So much, or I may stop breathing.

"Why?" I ask.

Abby shifts in my arms, I can _feel _her try to distant herself from me, but she doesn't leave and she doesn't not answer me, and when she speaks, her voice so small, it almost breaks my heart, "I don't want you to hate me"

"Hate you?" god, I hate myself, "I could never hate you, Abby-" I lift her chin up and force her to look me in the eyes "- I _love _you, _so_ much, I'll always love you, no matter what you ever have to say to me, even if I hate the words or what they mean I could never ever hate _you_"

She lets out a breath and snuggles further into me, "if I say it, maybe I'll hate myself… If I lose my kidney I lose a part of me I can never get back, I lose basketball, and freedom, and maybe babies, and everyone is always making these choices for me, and I never get to say yes _or _no, and I just want a _choice_"

It's tempting to remind her that she will also lose her brother if she continues this all, but I don't, I just wrap my arms tighter around her and say what I feel, "I still love you", and I can't see her face but I know she is smiling.

I guess she'll always need me for the same reason I'll always need her.

When I go inside Lucas is sitting at the kitchen table, the paper work in front of him, and for a moment I pause before walking over and picking up my phone.

"_Mom" Abby whispers as we sit in the comet, "yes?" and I kiss the top of her head._

Lucas' looks up, his squint sharpens "what are you doing?"

As the dial rings I give him a shaky smile, "I'm calling our lawyer" and just like that Lucas abandons the documents and walks up behind me, he pulls me into his chest and rest his head atop mine. When the other line is picked up I give my name and wait, Lucas waits with me.

"_I understand that you've gotta do what you've gotta do. I guess what I'm trying to say is… I love you, and I could never hate you too"_

Soon the phone call is over, we have a meeting set for later today, and I turn in Lucas' arms and hug my husband. Abby's voice still echoing inside my head, her last words are the loudest.

"_Mom, I'm not giving up and neither should you"_

-x-

_My life with you means everything_

_So I won't give up that easily_

_Blowing away, blowing away_

_Can we make this something good?_

'_Cause it's all misunderstood_

_Well, I'll try to do it right this time around_

_Let's start over_

_I'll try to do it right this time around_

_It's not over_

'_Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground_

_This love is killing me but you're the only one_

_It's not over_

_You can't let this get away_

_Let it out, let it out_

_Don't get caught up in yourself_

_Let it out_

_Let's start over_

_I'll try to do it right this time around_

_It's not over_

'_Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground_

_This love is killing me but you're the only one_

_It's not over_

_Let's start over_

_It's not over, oh yeah_

_This love is killing me but you're the only one_

_It's not over_

_-It's Not Over, Daughtry _

* * *


	7. Over My Head

**disclaimer: i own absolutly nothing, but if you are willing to hand me the rights to oth then i woulnt say no.**

**thanx to alex, allie, issybell91 and rosa for your reviews, i can never remember if i actually replied to your reviews, if i didnt sorry, i totally meant to and thanks for the kind words, im glad the storys tugging everyone in diff directions, teh way its meant to, besides i couldnt write the brilliant brooke as a total insensitive bitch. it just wouldn't be believable. hugs, luv mickei b.**

_I never knew  
I never knew that everything was falling through  
That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue  
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth  
But that's how it's got to be  
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy  
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see  
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears and_

Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head  
With eight seconds left in overtime  
She's on your mind  
She's on your mind

Let's rearrange  
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage  
Just say that we agree and then never change  
Soften a bit until we all just get along

Let's disregard  
As you find another friend and you discard  
And you lose the argument in a cable car  
Hanging above as the canyon comes between and

Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head  
With eight seconds left in overtime  
She's on your mind  
She's on your mind

-x-

Chapter Seven

_*Julian*_

Coffee, the greatest discovery man has ever made, it is one of the many things I learnt during my time at law school. Going back to university in my late twenties was far from _easy_, coffee was my salvation. The first thing I did once I walked out my apartment door was go to the nearest Starbucks, years later my morning routine is still the same, it's just a different coffee shop I step through. I'm not saying I chose my office's location due to _Marcella's_ across the street, and the fact they make the best coffee and Danishes, just that it might have had a _small _role in the decision.

The moment I smile at Jenna behind the counter she nods her head and without one word exchanged she starts making my order. I have become predictable it seems, and you know what, it feels good.

"Good weekend?" I ask Jenna, getting my cash out.

She groans, "Don't wanna talk about it"

"One of _those, _huh?"

"Yep. What about you?"

I worked mostly, "it was good" that is less conspicuous than fine, right?

Giving Jenna the note and taking the tray I keep my head down, I just need one cup to help wake me up and focus everything for the day ahead. And I'm going to need my nerves, because today I come face to face with mama and papa Scott.

"See you at lunch" Jenna farewells me and I look back up and wink, "it's a date" and with that I turn away and take my first sip.

"You wish" is called out after me and I chuckle as I step out of the front door and cross the street.

My reprieve is short lived, the moment I walk into the reception room Kerri looks up from the desk, still talking into the ear piece she sends me a serious look and holds up her hand. The first thing I do is place her latte on the desk and then I go straight to my office, even as the door shuts I feel her glare on my back.

Six minutes later my door opens and Kerri walks in, "he called again. Three times"

"Is it Christmas?" I ask curious, surely I have missed something, "my birthday is a month away" I add on in a mumble. Kerri rolled her eyes and I can't help but chuckle, she is so cute when she's mad, scary but cute.

She takes a step forward and crosses her arms and I make no plans to check if she is tapping her foot, "he is your _father_, ever thought he might just want to see how you are?"

Now that is classic, Paul calling up to see how I am, that will be the day. Frowning I start moving the folders on my desk, trying to distract myself from her disapproving glare, "it happens" Kerri says and I refrain from replying how it's never happened to me before, and she knows that, after all we've worked together for years.

Hiding my bitterness with calm sarcasm I look up and smile "maybe he needs a kidney" and then I look back down, instinctively glancing at the folder I'm now holding, the one with Scott written on it, and suddenly my joke doesn't seem so funny. Just further proof family is not for me, if the Brooke I use to know could turn into a mother who would use her kid then what hope do the rest of us have. Keep it simple, keep it free, and nobody gets hurt.

"Anything else?" I ask, wanting to firmly put my father where he belongs, _behind me_.

Without answering Kerri leaves, the door shutting loudly behind her. The quiet never lasts for long and as if on cue the phone rings.

…

Just before eleven I hear Kerri's voice rise, "you can't go in there"

Even before I hear the husky voice answer I know exactly who it is, butterflies fill my stomach even as I smile at the feisty "watch me" Brooke Davis calls out just before I hear the doorknob turn.

In the split second before she appears in front of me the past flashes before my eyes, I stand unwilling to be sitting placidly when she sees me, and I get ready for what I realise I've been expecting from the moment I read her name in Abby's scrawl.

…

There are red alerts in a relationship, ones that tell you to look out for danger ahead, and let me tell you, when you tell a girl you are _in _love with her and all she can say is she _likes _you _a lot_, then those alerts start ringing loudly. She tells you _"you can't chose who you love" _and you wonder if she still loves him, and when she tells you she doesn't a part of you doubts it, it's hard not to when you are giving everything you can and they are holding back. But I didn't let go, I fought, because I knew that one day Brooke Davis would love me back. And she did.

Possibly the greatest night of my life, I take that back, it _is _the greatest night of my life, was when Brooke surprised me on set of my last movie and said those three words I'd been waiting for. It was the closest to perfect I have ever gotten; it blew my past experience with Peyton completely out the window. We didn't sleep that night, we made love, and we made plans for our future, in those hours I had everything I thought I could possibly ever want. Finally we did fall asleep, with the sun high above us. I fell asleep with the woman I loved in my arms only to wake up to a whole new world. I woke up to a nightmare

Cold, that is how it felt when I opened my eyes, and before I even saw Brooke I knew something had gone terribly wrong. Getting up with the sheet wrapped around my waist I found Brooke dressed and hastily repacking her bag in the living room, "Brooke"

And then those tear stained eyes turned to me, "I have to go"

"You just got here" on retrospect I probably should have asked what had happened, I should have done something to comfort her, but I was frozen, because all I could process in that moment was that she was leaving.

Instead I stood still as Brooke gave up on her luggage and swore, grabbing simply her handbag she went to leave, and by the time I caught up with her she was nearly on the street.

I remember calling her name over and over again, yet my voice didn't seem to register, and it wasn't until I grabbed her arm and span her back around that she seemed to remember I even existed, "where are we going?" and I smiled, the moment I did I knew I'd done something wrong.

"Peyton's dead" was all she said.

I've heard it said you never forget your first love, I don't believe you ever forget your second or third or any other either, but that first love does seem to somehow keep your affection even years later. Peyton's death hit me hard; it hit a lot of people even harder.

In one swift blow Brooke had lost her best friend and the joy in our reunion was gone. Brooke's mask went immediately up, and with Lucas deep in grief Brooke saw it upon herself to keep everyone together, she planned the funeral, made sure Lucas was coping alone, made sure baby Sawyer was healthy and happy, hell she practically had the weight of Tree Hill's grief on her shoulders so it wouldn't collapse and destroy us all. Meanwhile she pushed everyone away, even me. All I wanted was to be the shoulder she cried on, and yet she barely could meet my eye.

For four months I stood by quietly and let it happen, I kept thinking time would heal the wounds and if I just waited like I had before then she would come back to me. Not physically, on the surface we were a couple, we shared a house and a bed, but emotionally we grew further and further apart.

Four months after the accident, months of barely seeing my girlfriend and our conversations not flowing like they use to, I snapped. As much as I had wanted to deny it I'd known I was losing her, slowly bit by bit she was taking her heart back. I never thought it would bother me that Brooke didn't need me, but back then there were moments when I would have done anything to feel like she did.

And what really started to piss me off, probably more than it should have, is how much time she spent with Lucas. I hadn't seen him since the funeral, we were not close friends if we were ever friends in the first place, and I didn't know what to say to a man who just lost his wife, especially when I resented his monopolising so much of my girl's time. I still to this day just want to know why it had to be _Brooke_?

The man had Haley and Nathan, a whole town of friends, why did it have to be Brooke who always checked in on him, who had taken on the role of surrogate mother for Sawyer, it simply drove me crazy. I hated calling her and hearing the baby in the background, or her saying she's working late when she wouldn't have to if she didn't check in on Lucas so much. Why did our dishes get left uncleaned so she could make sure his house is spotless?

I loved her, more than I had ever loved before or since then, and she was slipping away. Just like that. Brooke had given me no reason to not trust her, at the same time she hadn't given me much of a reason not to feel like everything I felt was justified.

Which is why one day I found myself on all fours going through her home looking for a book, some might call me a mad man and say what I did was irrational but if you knew our history, and _my _history, then you may understand where I was coming from. The reason I broke her trust, that reason has a name – Lucas Scott.

See the brooding blonde is the bane of my existence, he is seemingly incapable of _not _falling in love with every girl who looks his way, and then using his words and stupid, squinting eyes to make them love him back. It's as if once they have Lucas Scott no other guy can compete, and I should know, I have fallen in love exactly two times, and both of those times with an ex of yes you guessed it, Lucas Scott. When the elegantly, graceful Peyton Sawyer walked into my life, god, something hit my heart and I fell hard and fast, she was saucy and quick and verbal battle with her was the best foreplay there was, and the tortured look in her eyes just made me want to make her smile, and best of all she had a love of music that rivalled mine. I thought I had found the one, eventually we moved in together and life seemed perfect. But (there is always a but) every time she saw a copy of the book 'An Unkindness of Ravens' she would buy it, damn, she took a copy everywhere she went and constantly reread it. Maybe it wouldn't have concerned me if the book hadn't been written by her ex and a large chunk of it was dedicated to their adolescent relationship. When she couldn't close her suitcase – for our weekend away together – because of that book, well, I snapped. I could no longer compete with a memory. I resented Lucas Scott and that book for breaking my heart, so much so that I couldn't resist the temptation to read it. The thing was, I loved the book and every single character described. Not only was I enthralled by this version of Peyton that was so different to the girl I knew, but there was this other girl, the other girl from the book – Brooke Davis. She captivated me. Her devotion, her heart, her struggle, how everyone she loved let her down yet she still managed to take the world by storm. She was a survivor and she didn't need anyone else to help her claim that title. I had no idea what I was walking into when I hopped a plane to Tree Hill with the intention of offering Lucas a movie deal, what I found was the close nit group of friends still around each other, Lucas and Peyton happily engaged, and Brooke Davis as beautiful, wonderful and messed up as she'd been in the book. The first ever conversation I had with her she threatened me. How could I not fall in love with her? Tell me that. I did, quicker than I thought I ever could, not after what happened with Peyton, but I did. Brooke Davis does not give her heart easily, she once gave it to an immature boy and he managed to smash it into little pieces. That boy was Lucas Scott, and in high school he cheated on her with her best friend, which would be Peyton, and she never loved or trusted the same again. Was I worried about dating another Lucas Scott ex? Yes, I was. Brooke might have had issues due to her first round with love, but so did I. And as willing as she was her heart never seemed willing, so after four months of no more _I love you_ , I started to wonder if my second try at love was going to end the same way as my first - losing to _him_.

Does any of this explain why I ended up destroying the house trying to find a book?

I was convinced there had to be something, something somewhere, that linked to their past. Peyton had dozens of the same book, so where was Brooke's thing? Because I'd starting to feel like there was more to this than her wanting to be there for a friend and I simply couldn't be in another relationship haunted by his shadow.

What happened next is still so vivid in my memory.

Brooke catching me by surprise, confused and asking me what I was doing, and not feeling one bit guilty I'd looked to her.

"Are you going through my stuff?" her eyes had pinned me to the spot, no longer confused she' turned to the familiar anger, something I'd managed to raise in her over and over again in those four months.

Still half crazed I'd ignored her emotions, caught up in my own "It has to be here somewhere. I've looked over the whole house"

"What are you talking about?"

"The _book_, Brooke! I am talking about Lucas' book" my shout still echoes in my mind sometimes, every single time I see a copy of that novel.

At first she was taken aback by my admission and then her body had stiffened and she'd crossed her arms in a defensive move, every inch telling me to back off, and soon her composure was as cool as her voice "Julian, you won't find it so whatever you are trying to prove is pointless"

See that was the thing, if anything Lucas was at least her friend so she should have a copy of his novel, it would be strange for her _not _to. So I didn't know how to react to the lack of Lucas, in fact it's as if he'd been completely erased from the house, even the few pictures of him had no longer been up. All I could think was, _so what is she hiding?_

_I'm a masochist, I should just leave it as it is, and I should just accept their friendship and trust that I'm the one she is_ in_ love with. _That is what I told myself, it's not what I did though.

"Pointless? You don't talk to me, ever since Peyton's death you've been pushing me away… you still refuse to let me in" I spat the words out at her, and saw them hit her one after the other and then her mask slipped on. She licked her lips, I remember even that small detail, "I told you I loved you, what more do you want?"

As if she'd done it for me and not for her and that killed me, that made all my doubts seem more real "YOU!" I grabbed her by the shoulders, "I can't take it anymore, I want you back, the real you, all of you, not Lucas Scott's left over's"

"I'm not his left over's"

I refused to admit I'd used the wrong words, I was not mad, I was desperate to hold onto that one night before it all went wrong. Whispering I had changed my tone, "where were you, before you came home, can you tell me you weren't at his house?" and maybe if she said no I could get it all back. But you already know the end to the story.

"Julian, he is my friend"

"He has other friends"

"You're right, but I made a promise to Peyton that if anything happened to her I would be there for Lucas and Sawyer. This isn't about our past, and I know it's hard on you but it will get better. I promise you"

"When? It has been four months so when do you get your life back?"

"They are a part of my life, they always will be-"

"If he is such a big part of your life then where the hell is his book? I thought it was bad enough when Peyton threw him at my face but this is ten times worse, having you hide him away-"

"Stop Julian, stop before you say something you regret. I've told you how I feel, I am not the one putting Lucas between us, you are, so just _stop_"

To this day I'm still convinced I did the right thing when I ignored her plea and didn't stop, her words only inflaming me more.

My reply is logged in my memory word for word, like most of that day, "You might have not put Lucas between us Brooke but that wall you refuse to bash down, you sure as hell built that"

It's her reply that really hurts my head, where the guilt suddenly appears.

"_Fine! You want in, is that what you want? Want me to open up every corner of my broken heart, will that make you happy, I'll show you the god damn book" and_ she hit my chest before spinning around and heading towards the spare room. I had to jog to keep up with her strides, and without elegance Brooke stormed into the room and opened the closet pulling out a big box before dumping it on the bed and tipping all its contents over.

The thought that flashed through my mind in that moment was a bittersweet _I guess I just found Lucas._ One of those be careful what you wish for moments.

Next Brooke picked up a package and threw it at me, "there is what you're looking for!" she screamed, not one tear in her eye she tried to pick everything up and put it back in the box. At that point I barely noticed the package that had fallen by my feet; instead my eyes were taken in by all the letters, the photos, the insignificant pieces that must have meant something to Brooke. It wasn't until she stuffed a grey sweater into the box that a sob broke free.

That was when I flinched and unable to look at her I finally paid attention to the package. The brown unopened paper with Brooke's name on it above a New York address is bright in my memory, a beacon. You would have to be a complete idiot to not recognise a book inside its shape, "you never opened it?"

"No" one simple word can change everything even more.

Which left me with one burning question, "you've never read it?"

"_I lived it"_

…

The memories fade and I find myself back in my office, the door opening completely and Brooke Davis… Brooke _Scott _storms in. She doesn't simply walk, she glides in all her feisty glory, her presence taking over the room and forcing all other memories to vanish. It's only the now.

I might have subconsciously expected this confrontation since finding out the connection but I now realise I'm far from ready for it.

"Look who it is" and I'm shocked that the words actually come out normally and aren't a nervous stutter.

She stops, eyes slowly looking me up and down before she meets my eyes, and I smile _like what you see? _But then she frowns and I realise she is simply trying to figure me out.

"What is this about?" she asks practically screaming, and damn that voice still can send shivers down a man's spine.

I shrug, "I have no idea what you are talking about"

"So I'm meant to believe it's a coincidence _you're _my daughter's lawyer" and she kinks her eyebrow, a Brooke Davis signature move.

"Yes. I had no idea who Abby was when she first approached me but I assure you Brooke, _she _came to _me, _not the other way around" why I even bother defending myself to this woman is beyond me, after everything that happened she should explaining things to me.

Her body relaxes, "do you know about Keith?"

"Your son, yes. He's very sick"

"He's _dying_, and if he doesn't get a kidney transplant soon he's gone. My son will be dead" she looks straight at me, her voice so calm as if these are words she must have to say every day. They probably are. But there's a slight hopeful look in her eyes, a light, as if I can safe him and I guess a part of her thinks that is true. If I end this case then Abby can go back to being the organ farm her family use her as… okay, even thinking that phrase in connection to that young girl seems wrong, even thinking them in connection to Brooke feels wrong. Essentially though that is what is going on, and though letting Abby down might save Keith it won't fix what is broken in that family. It won't turn Abby back into the girl they need her to be.

I stare just as hard at Brooke, "and what about Abby, what about what she wants?"

"Don't speak about my children as if you know anything about what they want" she shoots out fast.

I smile, I can't help it "isn't that why you're here though, why I'm here? Because of what Abby wanted-" I shake my head "-it's too late to stop this"

"I can't believe that" she pauses, looking down her hair falls over her face, masking her hazel eyes from my view. When she speaks it is in a whisper "I can't stop Abby if this is what she wants, but I also know she doesn't want her brother to die, but I can't stop this. _You can_"

"It seems the whole problem is the kid feels like no one gives her a choice, everyone who should care about her is always telling her what to do… I won't be another one of those people" I refuse to be. Besides, she is paying me.

"And I am?" her eyes fly up, her already pale skin losing the rest of its colour. "I am doing my best, Julian, I'm trying to hold onto the pieces of my family, what am I supposed to do, let Keith die?" her eyes are begging me for some sort of answer, okay, begging someone, maybe its not me.

I lean back in my chair, "if there is one thing you taught me it's that sometimes you just have to let go"

Anger stains her cheeks, "I can't believe you just compared my children's lives to our relationship"

Before I can even respond there is a small knock on the door and Kerri pops her head in, "Mr Baker, your eleven o'clock is here"

"Good, show him in" I say and Kerri remains looking between Brooke and I, I tilt my head at Brooke "are we finished here?"

She simply nods and goes to leave, "it was a pleasure seeing you again" I call after her and she turns back once to glare at me before flicking her head back around and storming out.

Kerri steps into the room as Brooke leaves, her eyes follow the brunette to the elevator and then she lets out a long whistle before turning back to me "so that's _the _Brooke Davis"

"In the flesh"

"She's younger than I expected" and then she waits, eyeing me in that _what aren't you telling me _way that she does.

"Anything else?"

"I sensed some serious _I know what you did last summer_ vibes between you two"

"Um… I'm not sure what you are implying" that I'm a stalker?

Kerri lifts her brows "she knew you and you know her. Ex girlfriend?" she smiles but her eyes suddenly widen "oh my god, she is, isn't she?"

"Kerri, we probably shouldn't leave Mr Atkinson waiting"

Quickly back stepping Kerri nods, "right" and finally leaves my office.

…

At four o'clock I sit across from Judge Peters, explaining Abby's case. I am all too aware that the girl in question sits outside waiting with both her parents, and I try not to think about the boy that's life may depend on what is decided here today, my focus has to remain on Abby. Not her mother, not her father and sure as hell not her brother, a boy who should mean nothing to me. But listening to the Scott's lawyer I'm even starting to hate me, "let's get one thing straight here" I interrupt, "Keith Scott is not what this case is about, it's about a twelve year old girl who has been to hospital more times than I can count yet has never been sick, the same girl who approached a lawyer so _her _rights could be looked after"

"A twelve year old girl who is too young to fully understand the repercussions of her actions, it is her parents place to-"

"Use her as a living organ donor?" I once again cut in, the judge looks between us and then slowly places her pen down. She looks at me from above her wire rimmed glasses, "Mr Baker, does your client understand what winning this case means"

"Yes, your honour, Abra Scott is well aware of her brother's condition, but like I've said this is about _her _not him. She is also well aware of the risks that come with the operation, and how it will forever change _her _life and health" and that is what I am trying to convince the judge, to put aside the natural flinching at letting a young boy die and focus on _Abby_. If I can keep it that way the case is a lock, like I told Abby, nobody can force you to donate an organ against your will.

Peters manages to smile at me and sits straighter in her chair, "let me speak to the plaintiff… alone"

I nod and quickly get up, the other lawyer, whatever his name is follows behind me.

Outside the room my attention quickly goes to Abby, she sits on one of the benches along the wall, her small feet swinging back and forth, "Abby, the judge wants to speak to you"

Abby's begins to look up and already I'm thinking about how to instruct her in what to say and what to avoid, but she doesn't look to me, instead when Abby looks up she turns straight to her parents. The family, it's always going to be the weakest link.

"Abby" I say, sterner this time to force her attention to me, and I make a point of not looking at Brooke or Lucas. Even though I can feel them glaring at me, holding out my hand I keep my eyes on Abby, she eventually nods and gets up and placing my palm on the small of her back I lead her to the office, lowering my voice I manage to get out one sentence before she enters the room "just remember everything you've said to me, focus on what you want"

I stop at the doorway and let Judge Peters take over, but just before the door shuts I see Abby's big eyes look directly at me. Damn it, she's scared.

This is why I hate working with kids. Shit. I march back down the hallway and see Brooke, my intention is to avoid them but both send worried eyes too me, "is she okay?" Brooke is quick to ask, and I frown, I can't help it, she sounds genuinely worried.

"Is this normal? Our lawyer never said they would want to talk to Abby this soon, she's not ready" Lucas adds on.

"She gets intimidated easily" Brooke then says, "I don't understand why you can't be in there with her, she shouldn't be alone"

"Hold up, can you both just stop worrying. From what I've seen of Abby she can handle herself, besides the judge just wants to get Abby's side without any adults whispering in her ear"

"Okay, okay" Brooke mumbles to herself and I can't help but notice the protective way Lucas wraps an arm over her shoulder and squeezes her hand with his free one. I really don't' want to see all this husband and wife-ness. If I want to vomit I prefer doing so after too much whisky, speaking of, I could use a stiff drink right about now.

With Lucas and Brooke's attention momentarily off me I take my chance to escape, but soon I'm called back in to see the judge, I take the seat next to Abby and the Scott's sit next to their lawyer.

"I am appointing a guardian ad litem to spend two weeks with Abby, and it goes without saying I expect everyone's full cooperation, and once I get the ad litem's report back then we'll have a hearing-" Judge Peters pauses to address solely Abby "-do you understand?" and for a moment I think Abby is just going to keep sitting there but she nods quickly before retreating back into her private shell.

"Two weeks?" Brooke asks, her eyes dart to Lucas and he covers the hand that clutched his arm, and immediately the lawyer pounces into action "Your honour, due to the severity of my clients son's illness two weeks is a very long time to this family"

Peters doesn't blink, "fine. The hearing will be next Monday, in the meantime I want all medical records pertaining to both Keith and Abra Scott, and anything else I need to know at that time bring it with you… I will see you all next week" and as she finishes there is a collective sigh amongst the other party.

The judge leaves, her heels taping on the tiles as she makes her exit, straight away I turn to Abby but she's already getting up and moving to her parents. Brooke and Lucas stand, and she places a hand on Abby's shoulder, "come on Squirt, let's take you home"

"I need a moment with my client" I interrupt the deranged Brady Bunch moment and am rewarded with Brooke's steely gaze shooting daggers at me.

She tightens her hold on Abby, "right now she's my daughter"

I go to say something, anything, but the moment I see Abby follow her parents step towards the door I know there is no point. Family trumps everything, and that is one thing I will never be.

...

"_Come with me, please, Brooke, we can put Tree Hill, Lucas, Peyton, everything, behind us. I know you love me, please, come with me"_

"_Julian, I can't"_

"_No, you won't, there is a difference"_

Our past echoes down the halls as I leave the courthouse behind the three different shades of hair that represent the Scott's. There was a time that watching Brooke walk away from me was all too common, and then I thought I would never have to watch it happen again. I guess I was wrong.

-x-

_  
Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head  
With eight seconds left in overtime  
She's on your mind  
She's on our mind_

And suddenly I become a part of your past  
I'm becoming the part that don't last  
I'm losing you and its effortless  
Without a sound, lose sight of the ground  
In the throw around  
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down  
I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves and

Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head  
With eight seconds left in overtime  
She's on your mind  
She's on your mind  
Everyone knows  
She's on your mind  
Everyone knows I'm in over my head  
I'm in over my head  
I'm over my...

Everyone knows I'm in  
Over my head  
Over my head  
With eight seconds left in overtime  
She's on your mind  
She's on your mind

_- Over My Head, The Fray_


	8. What About Now

**disclaimer: although i own a pretty impressive collection of books and dvds, i def don't own any rights to one tree hill or my sisters keeper, just a 'healthy' admiration for them and a hope to create something as great one day.**

**what can i say, i am so not a patient person and the new chapter is just sitting there begging to be read, plus its bl, havent they waited long enough. hugs to the last reviewers, bella, alex, rosa and esp allie who always takes the time to review, lol i aways have atleast one thing to look forward to after updating.**

_Shadows fill an empty heart  
As love is fading,  
From all the things that we are  
But are not saying.  
Can we see beyond the stars  
And make it to the dawn?_

_Change the colors of the sky.  
And open up to  
The ways you made me feel alive,  
The ways I loved you.  
For all the things that never died,  
To make it through the night,  
Love will find you._

_What about now?  
What about today?  
What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
What if our love never went away?  
What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
Baby, before it's too late,  
What about now?_

_-x-_

Chapter Eight

_*Lucas*_

…_seventeen years ago…_

It's been a week.

Seven days without waking up to her voice seeping through the house, and roughly one hundred and sixty eight hours of feeling this ache I cannot even describe. It is crazy, after all these years, for me to start feeling this way now, and I can't honestly stop and look back and pinpoint when exactly things started to change.

Or even if they ever really did.

Perhaps this was always there laying dormant, hidden behind what if and what cannot be, never allowed to be acknowledged because our present could never deal with the ramifications. And yet… thinking that makes me feel like I've betrayed all of us. Which is why I sit now, alone in my kitchen in the dark, my head in my hands, feeling guilty and scared, and at the same time there is a spark in me, a breath of fresh air, which just gives me hope, and I know happiness is so close, so close if only it wasn't so wrong.

Brooke Davis is my _friend_, sometimes my best friend, and there have been many times she has been my saviour. That definition, that line that is never crossed, keeps it safe, and now here I am contemplating crossing that big, thick line with danger signs plastered all around it, a line that I made very blurry three months ago.

….

It started like any other day; I woke up and stayed in bed for a moment before switching to action mode, coffee on, checking Sawyer, a quick shower before getting the little monster out of bed and preparing breakfast. Being a Saturday I had the whole weekend at my disposal, and I knew most of the next two days would be full of family and friends, like most weekends in our group. The first phone call came at ten, it was Haley, and after talking to my brother and sister-in-law plans were made for lunch at their place the next day. My mother was the next call, and then Mouth, and just after eleven Skillz stopped by. It wasn't until midday that the absence of Brooke caught my attention, the moment the phone rang I part of me anticipated talking to Brooke but it had instead been my editor, and after the brief conversation I'd stood staring at the home phone wondering why I was disappointed. Sure it was strange to not hear or see from Brooke by this point in the weekend, not that it was abnormal. She had a life, one which had little to do with me.

Sawyer toddled up to me, her blonde hair sticking up in all places, "Book?" I thought she had asked and held her toy mobile to her ear, "lolo". I'd flung my head back in laughter upon realising she was pretending to talk to her Aunt Brooke over the phone, "you want to go see Aunt Brooke, huh?" and I picked up my now squealing daughter and placed her over my shoulder.

Was I using Sawyer as an excuse to go see Brooke? At the time the thought never entered my mind, now in reflection I'd jumped at a reason to go see her, a decision which changed our lives dramatically in such a short time.

Only weeks before this day Brooke had bought a new house, the riverside property she'd purchased after her move back to Tree Hill had been on the market for nearly a year and for some reason was not selling as quickly as everyone expected. Meanwhile Brooke had started looking for a new home, one with a backyard she'd insisted. We all knew that Brooke was starting to look towards her future again, with dreams of a home full of children, whether they be adopted, fostered or even her own by blood, it didn't matter. And each new house she'd looked at had been rejected until a few weeks ago when she found this 'charming, family home in need of love', which loosely translated meant that it needed work, a lot of work. And out of the blue just after Brooke signed the papers for her new home a buyer was found for her old one, moving her straight to the not so charming at the moment family home.

Brooke had insisted it was fine and in perfect living condition. That day I'd driven up with Sawyer in the back and chuckled at the sight of the house which other than Brooke's car and the new roses it looked miserable. My laughter died the moment I found Brooke swearing in the kitchen, soaking wet in just a singlet and tight boxer shorts.

"Brooke, what the heck is going on?"

She had spun around, her eyes widening, hair sticking to her face "It's broken, my kitchen is BROKEN" and she had even stamped her foot before turning back to the sink and hitting it, meanwhile her screams of telling it to stop started all over again. With Sawyer squirming in my arms I went to turn off the water and returned to a satisfied Brooke standing proudly with her hands on her hips, "what do you know, it listened to me" she smiled.

"You are _not _staying here" I had told her with not one bit of the humour she saw in the situation, this was the last straw, Brooke needed a place which was not going to drown her. She on the other hand didn't see it quite the same way and it took two hours for me to convince her to temporarily move out just while the place was getting renovated, and then it took another hour to convince her that the spare room at my place was the perfect solution.

The next morning I'd paused when making my coffee and then at the last minute prepared one for Brooke as well, seconds later she had walked into the kitchen, fresh out of the shower and dressed ready for the day, she's taken one sip and sighed "you know just how I like it"

…

That started the routine of the next three months, until the day Brooke's house was finished and she promptly told me she'd be out of my hair. One week ago.

Now I have a new routine, I wake up and walk into the kitchen, prepare two coffees before remembering she is no longer here, and then I tip the second one out. I knock on the bathroom door, even though there is no longer a need to, and I smile as I walk into the living room expecting to see her sprawled on the couch going through magazines or sketching for her new line, only to frown when it's an empty room instead.

I instinctively call to Brooke when I'm distracted and I hear Sawyer crying, and when my baby girl bangs on the spare door calling for her _Bookie _I know exactly how the eighteen month old feels.

My heart aches, a familiar yet completely new emotion, and it has since that first coffee got poured down the sink. I told myself it was for a million different reasons, and I told myself it would fade, yet it only grows stronger. So much so that it has started to affect the rest of my life and even my friends are commenting on the change.

Eyeing the piece of paper in my hand I sigh and close my eyes again.

Am I really thinking what I am thinking? And if I am, am I even ready to move on, it's not even been two years since I promised before god and law that Peyton would be my forever. And now I can't stop thinking about her best friends smile, or the way Brooke's hair falls over her shoulders, or wondering what it would feel like to kiss her, touch her cheek, smell her hair, pull her do…

This is crazy, inappropriate and completely pointless because even if I am feeling this it doesn't necessarily mean that Brooke would ever do the same.

Our past is so complicated, this is the same girl who broke my heart once upon a time, the same girl who stopped missing me, who never fought for me, who gave me up, this is Brooke Davis, the girl I managed to break right back.

Bringing it all back is asking for trouble, isn't it?

It took years for us to get anything even close to resembling a good friendship, and even then we drifted apart so much before Peyton died and Brooke helped pull me back together. How long would it take us to get it all back if I screw it up this time, because I will, I always hurt her, and I always say and do the wrong thing. It was hard back then and after everything that has happened since our last break up it can only be harder if we try again.

My eyes open and I place the paper down, the words safely hidden on the other side.

…

"Hey, you look very pensive" Haley had said the moment she had walked into the room earlier tonight, I simply smiled without shifting my eyes. I knew the moment she realised what I was staring so thoughtfully at, she had let out a breath and placed a hand on my shoulder "you know it's alright, don't you?"

With that I ripped my eyes from the photo of Brooke which rested in it's usual place on the mantel piece, it's slightly crooked because I have kept picking it up over the last week, "I don't know what you are talking about" which was a lie, I knew exactly what Haley was referring to.

"Lucas, what have I told you about hiding your heart" and she had sighed again, "is this what you think Peyton would want, for you to be unhappy just because you think you have to be?" and when I looked away Haley had touched my chin and turned my face back to her, "Luke, I think we both know why you've been so sad lately, and I know it's hard, but Peyton was my friend too and I like to think I knew her well enough to say that she would want the man she loved and the girl she loved to both be happy, even if what made them happy was each other"

Standing up I turned to laughter to defend myself, "this is crazy, it's too soon, I mean… its Brooke… it's just… I can't do this, not again"

Haley had smiled sadly at me, and standing in front of me she briefly touched the spot above my heart "tell your heart that".

"I love Peyton"

"I know you do, but since when was there only room for one person in our hearts? What you are feeling, it doesn't take away from what you feel for Peyton, just like she won't take away from what you feel for Brooke. Luke, it's okay"

Somehow we both were sitting again, I barely noticed Haley get up and leave, and then she was back and handing me a piece of paper.

I had smiled.

"You know, I always thought you were crazy with your creepy stalker boy crush for Peyton Sawyer, and your conviction you would marry her one day… but you did, you wrote it on that list and it actually came true-" Haley's voice was laced with good memories, and I could tell in that moment she was smiling.

I nodded.

Then Haley had opened the paper in my hand, "look at the last line" she had insisted, and so I did. I had almost forgotten. But Haley hadn't, her voice became more serious, "Peyton Sawyer was your dream, and yes it came true for a while, but if you look carefully at that list the moment you met her things changed, what did you write Lucas?"

"Try again with Brooke" the words stared up at me in all their simple meaning.

Haley had smiled, "a dream replaced with reality. Maybe it's not too late to have another prediction come true too"

I know Haley was trying to tell me something, maybe about fate, or second chances, or about moving on and opening up, of not holding back. I have no idea exactly what her point was, and at the time it just felt like another reminder about what I _can't_ do.

The past was just proof that feeling what I am feeling and acting on those feelings were two very different things, just a reminder of all that went wrong the first time and all that could go wrong again.

Head down I'd placed the list on the coffee table and shaken my head, "I could lose her"

"Then ask your self if she is work the risk"

…

Is Brooke Davis worth the risk of getting my heart broken again, is having her in my arms again worth the risk of never holding her there again even in the most innocent way, is the chance of waking to her smile every morning worth the chance I will never see her smile again?

What do I do?

_Is she worth the risk?_

Yes. One hundred times yes.

I once told another man that it's Brooke Davis and if you don't try you're an idiot, and I am _not _an idiot. Or if I am I won't be one any longer, because yes she _is _worth the risk.

Listening to my heart I stand up, in the spur of the moment I grab that list of predictions from high school and throw it in the bin before grabbing my jacket and keys, and then carefully picking up a sleeping Sawyer I place her in her car seat, "wish me luck, princess".

…

In the movies when the guy goes to give his big love proclamation it is some how magical and beautiful, and why wouldn't it be, the whole thing is carefully masterminded behind the scenes. There is a script ready and prepared, and everything from their clothes, emotion and words to every detail of the set is chosen in advance. Life is not a movie and I'm on my own here risking my heart and my friendship, because in all likelihood I am about to be slapped and kicked out of her life, but I have to try or that ache in my heart is just going to grow and it will all be my fault.

And as I nervously wait at her door, my fist ready to knock, I have a small fantasy full of hope that whatever I manage to say will win her back, she'll tell me she loves me and I can say it back, we can kiss and I will wake every morning of the rest of my life to her smile.

It feels good, it feels right, and so I knock.

Brooke opens up, her eyes looking around behind me, "Lucas, what are you doing here?"

A part of me knows this is probably all wrong, it's late at night and I have a eighteen month old sleeping in my arms, I must look like a mad man because I've had barely five hours sleep the last few days. I have no idea what to say so I must look like an idiot standing here on her doorstep.

"Are you okay?" she asks, wrapping her robe tighter around her.

And somehow I find the courage to open my mouth, and my heart, "No, I'm not okay. Every morning I make a second coffee and I have to tip it down the sink, I yell at you when you don't answer me because I forget you aren't there, and when I laugh at something I turn to see if you are laughing too, _every time_, and then I stop laughing because I never see you-"

Her eyes widen, I see her hold on the door tighten and her mouth start to gape open and I try to ignore the fact her eyes are starting to look wet. Sawyer wiggles for a moment in my arms and I awkwardly move her slightly, praying she stays asleep while I make a fool of myself "-I smile when I walk into a new room in the house, words already on my lips to say to you, but the moment I go to speak them I see the emptiness. And I don't smile as much now. I hate setting the table for only two, and I hate not being able to say good morning or goodnight, and I hate that I have this ache in my heart I didn't have a week ago" I stop, my words faltering, my mind trying to figure out exactly how to say what I want to say "you once told me that it seemed I didn't miss you, and that because of that you stopped missing me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss you, everyday, and I'm just wondering if you ever, even just for a moment, miss me too?"

I stop, waiting, hoping, I stand here emotionally naked, because this is the moment that she is meant to cut in and say she loves me, and I have a plan for that. I know what to do if that happens. Anything else opens up to a big dark unknown I don't want to think about, and with each second that she remains silent that black hole gets bigger.

Brooke closes her eyes, and her lips, I can practically hear her letting me down gently, which at this point is impossible.

Finally she opens her eyes and looks at me, and one word escaped from between her lips, "Lucas…" and then she falters.

"It's alright; you don't have to say it. We can just pretend this never happened, I'm sorry" and biting my lip I turn around and walk back to my car.

"LUCAS WAIT!" she suddenly screams, and when I spin back around she's running down the steps "you can't just come here in the middle of the night and say those things and then expect me to know what to say!" she stops in front of me, and I can't tell if she's angry or sad or confused, maybe all three. She growls, the sound coming from the back of her throat "God, if you had said anything _remotely _like that eight years ago…" and as she drawls off she stops and looks hard at me, she shakes her head and places a hand to her mouth, and with each new word she says she punctuates it by a tap on her mouth "…You. Can't. Expect. Me. To. Know. What. To say"

"The truth" I whisper, "just the truth"

"It's too late, Lucas, nearly eight years too late" she breaks down, a tear falling down one cheek, she spins around and takes a step away from me, and without thinking I secure Sawyer with one arm and grab Brooke with the other dragging her back to me.

"And what about _now_, I don't care about back then, so much has happened since then that neither one of us can take back, things we can't regret, things I won't regret. But I'm not going to apologise for what I'm feeling, and I know I said I'm sorry, but I'm not. I'm standing here in front of you, Brooke, telling the truth and I'm just begging for that back"

"YES I MISS YOU" she gives in and screams, "I miss you everyday, even when you're standing right next to me I am still missing you-" and then she abruptly stops, her eyes even wider and her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath she takes.

This scenario is not what I planned, but as I smile I can't help but think that I can definitely find my way from here.

-x-

_The sun is breaking in your eyes  
To start a new day.  
This broken heart can still survive  
With a touch of your grace.  
Shadows fade into the light.  
I am by your side,  
Where love will find you._

_What about now?  
What about today?  
What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
What if our love had never went away?  
What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
Baby, before it's too late,  
What about now?_

_Now that we're here,  
Now that we've come this far,  
Just hold on.  
There is nothing to fear,  
For I am right beside you.  
For all my life,  
I am yours._

_What about now?  
What about today?  
What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
What if our love had never went away?  
What if it's lost behind words we could never find?_

_What about now?  
What about today?  
What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?  
What if our love had never went away?  
What if it's lost behind words we could never find?  
Baby, before it's too late,  
Baby, before it's too late,  
Baby, before it's too late,  
What about now?_

_- What About Now, Daughtry_


	9. Hey Now

**Disclaimer: I do not own one tree hill (and quite frankly at the moment I would be ashamed to) and I do not have any rights to or own anything jodi picoult ever wrote. I'm just borrowing a few characters and plots and that for fun.**

**Thanks to the reviewers of last chap, mel, abc, allie, bella, alex and Elena. I am glad you all liked the newest glimpse into the past, the Brucas reunion is something I was dying to do. But now we're back in the present, I know its been a while since I've updated, sorry, um, no excuses, I just wrote half this chap and waited oh a few months to get back to it.**

_Sky black and blue  
Blue turned to red  
It's quiet in the streets now  
It's screaming in your head_

_I ain't a fool  
I've got my doubts  
Say it doesn't hurt  
Doesn't matter anyhow  
Anyhow_

_Saying hey we're just bleeding for nothing  
It's hard to breathe when you're standing on your own  
We'll kill ourself to find freedom  
You'll kill yourself to find anything at all_

_So lock all the doors  
And put your child to rest  
There's fire in the streets now  
But it's quiet in your head_

_We're passing the time  
We're breaking apart  
We're damned at the end  
We're damned at the start_

-x-

Chapter Nine

_*Brooke*_

When Abby was a baby she cried _all _the time, I spent nights pacing up and down trying to figure out what was wrong with her. By that point in my life worry had become like a second nature to me and yet I still wasn't use to it. Sawyer had been such a loud and happy baby, she only ever cried when something was wrong, and Keith had been such an easy baby, I barely remember him crying, and when he was a newborn I use to constantly check to see he was still breathing because he'd be so silent. Abby was a learning curve, I tried everything and nothing seemed to work. After five very long weeks I found the answer by mistake.

One night I'd been so exhausted the first chance I got for a shower was after all the kids were in bed, I'd then fallen naked onto the bed and gone straight to sleep only to wake up an hour later to Abby's cries, without thought I rushed to my daughter and picked her up. Hugging her to my chest and cooing to her, begging for her to tell me what was wrong, I was so focused on Abby the fact I was still naked completely escaped my mind.

Against my bare skin with nothing between us Abby's little mouth stretched open, her dark baby blue eyes opened wide to look directly at me, and just like that she stopped crying. Relief had flooded through me, keeping my baby close to my heart I walked back to my own room and slipped on my fluffiest bathrobe and covered us both.

I knew after that night that whenever I couldn't tell what was wrong all I had to do was bring Abby as close as possible and lay her next to my heart.

…

The crash catches me by surprise. My ears are always alert for a noise that is out of the ordinary, so when it happens I'm turning towards it even as I jump from shock. Running upstairs a million worse case scenarios go through my mind, and when I finally stop at Keith's doorway I take in the scene quickly, "what the heck is going on in here?"

They stand, a room between them, both panting, eyes locked on each other, my own gaze goes between them, I feel like I am not even here because they both continue to stand staring at each other, my presence ignored. I slam the bedroom door with the palm of my hand, "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?" I yell into the silence.

Keith's eyes snap to me, anger in them for a brief moment before his expression ashes away and a mask is slipped on, "nothing" he whispers. Not believing that for a second I turn my attention to Abby who has turned so her back is even more to me, I kink my eyebrow "Abra, do you have anything to say?"

"What Keith said" she hisses out, her tone dark, but I notice she looks immediately in the direction of the broken glass that is not scattered on the floor near Keith, if I'm not wrong its from the photo frame which now lays upside down on the floor.

Before I can so much as take another step, Abby crosses her arms and spins around, with her head down she begins to walk by me in her attempt to leave the room, I grab her arm on her way by "missy, don't even think you are leaving this room until I get an explanation"

With a surprisingly strength Abby shakes her arm out of my grip, her hazel eyes shoot up at me, "_let me go_"

"No-"

"Mom-" Keith cuts in, and just like that Abby turns on him, her eyes wild "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!-" she screams, practically tearing pass me, I grab her by the arms and stop her from going back into the room, Abby struggle against me but I don't let go, even as she screams louder at Keith "-I HATE YOU, JUST DIE ALREADY!" and tears start falling down her cheeks, her body struggling even more to be free but I pull her closer to me, wrapping my arms around her so her back is pressed against me.

Keith takes a step forward, "I AM DYING, YOU IDIOT, DON'T YOU GET THAT?" he screams right back, louder than I think I've ever heard him. I'm not sure if I'm the one who gasps or if it's Abby but her tears are suddenly louder, faster, falling onto my arms as they drip from her face.

"I _hate _you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you" she repeats over and over again, no longer fighting against me, I pull her more into my chest, my hold becoming comforting instead of restraining but the moment I fully relax Abby pushes herself out of my arms and runs to her own room, my feet immediately follow, just in time for her door to be slammed in my face as I follow her, turning around I get a repeat performance as I watch Keith's door slamming just as loudly.

"_What the hell?_" I whisper, unsure still what I just walked into the middle of.

A quick check shows both rooms are securely locked, and when my knocks are rewarded with silence I give up and sigh, after all they have to come out sometime, like most of my life I will just have to play the waiting game.

…

Walking back into the kitchen with my head down my mind is on the bottle of white wine that is unopened below the sink, which is pathetic, the day has only just begun and already I am itching for a drink to help chase away the emotions I don't really want to face.

"So I was thinking we could start on Main Street, work our way up to Kew"

The voice snaps me to attention, causing a smile to form on my lips before I even look up and see Haley unpacking groceries, something I've repeatedly told her she doesn't have to do yet every time she comes over she always seems to sneak in some sort of housework. A few times I've even walked in on her doing the dishes. I would tell her off but most of the time I am just too grateful, it's as if she can sense when and how I need her.

She looks over her shoulder with a warm smile on her face "and don't say you are too busy, we haven't had a decent girl's day out in forever and I know you are dying for a distraction"

I nod, she's got me there. Pulling out the wine bottle and two glasses I salute Haley, "bring on the distraction"

And then Haley turned that _mom _look at me, and she matched it with the classic hand on hip. I always admired Haley, saw her as supermom. For so long my only hope was I would one day be even half as good a mother as her, and with that thought I wonder how many times she has had a door slammed in her face.

For some reason I doubt it's in the double figures like me, but then again Sawyer had that door slamming thing perfected once she hit her teens. Daughters.

I shake my head and go to open the bottle, only to have it snatched from my hands. Haley looks down at me "honey, it's barely eight" and then taking the bottle she manages to discard it and switch the kettle on at the same time, "so when will Lucas be home?" she changes the subject, her back still to me as she starts making our coffees.

For a moment I don't say anything, looking down at my hands I just wish my husband was here at home, "tomorrow. I already miss him"

"You say that every time" she chuckles and continues what she's doing, I watch her moving around my kitchen as if its her second home, then again I guess it's the same familiarity I have with hers. We've been through a lot together, from high school when we lived together to all the ups and downs of our adulthood, and between one husband who use to play professional basketball and spend half his time out of state and another who goes on book tours almost every year sometimes all we had was each other to lean on.

I shake my head and let the memories of the past shrink back inside my mind, "I don't know how you did it with Nate away so much, I hate even a few nights without Lucas by my side"

She looks up, a smile on her face "I had you-" and then a roll of the eyes "-and the boys" and just as our eyes meet in a mutual moment of reflection, smiles on our faces, a door above us slams shut. I cringe.

Just when I'm starting to feel normal there is a reminder, loud and clear, saying it will never be that easy. I can feel Haley staring me down as I avert my eyes, "I should probably stay home with Keith today"

When my comment is met with silence I look back up and this time Haley has a mug in one hand and a phone in the other, both being held out to me, she lifts one dark brow daring me to argue with her, "call Karen" is all she says, and I just look at her, "one day, Brooke, just one day, you need this"

I stare at her for a moment, thinking it over. There are a million things I should do today, Keith aside I still have a half finished line for the new season, but one day to just have a break does sound wonderful. A chance to breathe again, a chance to think about something other than this court case, so when Haley's brow lifts even higher I give in and take the phone, after all I can always come back home and worry later.

Karen doesn't need any convincing, she agrees straight away and even asks us over for dinner this weekend, I have to pause a moment before agreeing and then I tell her I love her and hang up.

Haley gives a little clap and I roll my eyes, "Karen's on her way" I tell her and then take the mug she'd offered me earlier. Haley just smiled her knowing smiles and joins me.

…

The drive is silent other than the music coming from the radio, and Abby sits with her arms crossed in the back, as close to the side of the car as she could possibly get with her eyes trained to the outside. I tried talking to her but my daughter just kept on her staring.

I can tell Haley feels awkward not knowing what to do, she sends me a sympathetic smile and I just close my lips together and do my best to smile back, to pretend that it is all going to be okay.

When we get to the school Abby opens her door and immediately jumps out, "have a good day" I shout out the window and get no response, rolling my eyes I turn my attention back to the front view and drive off, "where to first?"

Haley just looks at me and I risk taking my eye of the road to catch her glimpse, I kink my brow, not sure if I can handle repeating the question, Haley gives a little nod "anywhere you want"

Anywhere?

"Can I go back a few years, heck I'll take a few weeks?"

I don't know where I would begin; I'm still not sure where exactly it all went wrong.

…

After I learnt the secret to stop Abby crying she became one of the most charming, easiest babies to take care of, she had her moments, like all children but the teary baby grew up into a peaceful and bubbly toddler, and that toddler grew into a sweet and inquisitive child.

Sawyer had always liked the attention being on her, if we weren't giving her the amount she wanted she would then demand it, there were temper tantrums, performances, the over clinginess to get our attention, every way she could Sawyer would try and get the focus on her.

In the brief time I lived with Sawyer and Lucas before Lucas and I got back together Sawyer grew overly attached to me, every time I left the room she would protest, and it even came to the point I couldn't close a door on her. Every time I went to the bathroom she would bang her fist on the door crying for me, Karen told us it was normal and Sawyer would grow out of it, and she was forced to by my moving out again. After I moved back in she wouldn't cry at the door, she would sit there talking, knocking and making sure I was still there.

Trying to get alone time with Lucas had been near impossible, we never knew when Sawyer was going to pop into view wondering where we were and what we were doing, not that it was all bad, there was definitely the upside to that because it id force as to become, well, creative.

Keith never had to do anything to fight for our attention, and I don't view this as a good thing, I wish he had needed too, god I wish Keith had wanted it instead of trying to gain a space we couldn't afford to give him.

One child never had the attention she wanted, another got more than he desired, and then there was Abby who never asked for more.

For that sometimes she became all too noticeable, at other times it made her easy to let be, easy to assume she was happy and content. What's that old saying about assuming too much? Well whatever it is I'm pretty sure it's come back to bite me in my arse.

…

I waved goodbye to Karen and Haley and for the first time in a while I managed to smile a genuine, happy smile. Like always Haley was right and she knew what I had needed, so with a new bounce in my step I enter my home, "what do you want for dinner?" I yell out, my hand on the stairwell.

For a moment I wait, then my brow creases, hurrying up the stairs, I open go by Keith's room and see him asleep in bed, then I continue towards Abby's, opening the door I'm about to ask the question again but my mouth slackens as I stare at the empty room.

Closing the door behind me I give the house a quick look over, I hadn't asked Karen if Abby was home yet, why hadn't I done that, I had just assumed she'd be back from school by now, maybe because at this time she _should _be.

Gritting my teeth I return back to Keith's room and gently shake him awake, "sweetie, wake up, has your sister been home?"

"Sawy?" he mumbles rubbing his dark eyes and I shake my head, he just shakes his and rolls back over. Swearing I run downstairs and grab my phone, there are no messages or missed calls, which causes a natural worry to rise inside me. Fingers working fast I dial Abby's number and with the phone to my ear I wait.

As I stand there tapping my fingers against the table Keith walks into the room, I frown at him and continue to wait, but there is no answer.

I call again, and then again, and then again.

"Abby didn't say she was going anywhere after school, did she?" I ask and Keith shrugs, "please, don't shrug me off"

"She didn't say anything" he answers verbally this time, his eyes quickly darting away.

I don't like this, I don't like not knowing where my children are, not knowing how they are, that is exactly why they all have fully charged phones handy for easy contact, "Keith, if you know something…" I warn narrowing my eyes.

He spins around looking far too innocent, "I don't, okay, we're not exactly swapping secrets at the moment" and he shrugs again before going to walk right by me.

This time I follow straight away, all the way back up the stairs, "what is that about anyway?"

"Stuff" and he shrugs again.

Obviously. I roll my eyes as we reach his room, "stuff? Like the court case… she loves you, you know" I feel the sudden need to defend Abby. The moment the words leave my mouth Keith spins in his doorway, his hand reaching out to grab the wall and his eyes lock with mine. He has such determination in his eyes, such confidence that speaks of little doubt, it reminds me of his father, and then he says just as clearly "trust me, I know"

In the second it takes for me to process it all Keith manages to relax his whole manner, with another slight shrug of the shoulders he adds on lightly "its just brother sister stuff, normal brother sister stuff"

"Okay" I say, still not sure if I believe him.

Then he steps back and slowly shuts his door, I stand there staring at it, the white too clean and the lines too straight, and one crack runs down the door. My eyes seem glued to the imperfection, and then I walk away and go down the stairs again.

I can call her friends, her cousin, Haley and Nathan, and my other friends, and sooner than I know it Abby will be home. That's what I keep telling myself as I go downstairs but I'm not even half way down when I hear it and all other thoughts leave me.

My hurried steps echo through the house, and I skid in front of his door not pausing before turning the knob and opening it wide.

Blood pours from Keith's mouth, runs from his nose and as I watch he lurches forward again, his mouth opening wide as with his hands to his stomach more blood comes out. The floor is suddenly covered, and even as I'm rushing forward to my son his eyes lift to mine, this time full of pain, pain and sadness, and fear. And somewhere in that mixture of emotions I see just the hint of disgust in his eyes, he lowers his gaze to the bloody floor as his body doubles over just as I reach him and wrap an arm around his waist.

I always knew I could help Abby even if I never knew what was wrong; all I had to do was hold her close. It worked when she scarped her knee, when she was bullied at school, when she had a nightmare, or when she just needed to cry. I always knew how to make Abby feel better, it was the one thing I could always do right, she didn't push me away like Sawyer and she didn't live in her own world like Keith, and there was a control in that. Holding my son to my heart I wish I could help him as easily, but he was always harder to help, so I kept trying and trying, and trying, but there is always something else, always another thing a hug can't fix with him.

No, Keith never had to ask for attention, it was just out of our control.

…

Letting go is hard, but sometimes you have to let go, pulling Keith into the car I eye the front seat and then look at Keith's pale face again, he grabs my hand "don't leave me" he whispers, and I close my eyes, pain filling my heart.

Making a quick decision I let go of his hand "I'll be back, don't go anywhere" and for a moment a flicker of a smile graces his lips. Running to the garage I rush up the stairs to Sawyer's apartment and start banging, this isn't exactly the time for polite knocking.

Loud music still playing Sawyer opens the door, "what?"

"It's Keith" I say and just like that Sawyer unlocks the door and steps out, grabbing her hand I drag her down the stairs and over to my car, and I hear her gasp as she sees Keith laying in the back seat with traces of blood on his shirt and face, "holy shit"

"I need you to drive" I instruct, throwing the keys at Sawyer I prepare to climb into the back, but her stare stops me, I turn my head back and meet her blue gaze. She looks at the keys, then at her brother and then at me, her mouth opens, and for the first time I really look at her. Anger boils inside me, "are you high?" I hiss.

Her eyes meet mine and I know I'm right, shaking my head I ignore her struggled protest and grab the keys back, "get in the back and hold your brother, we'll talk about this later" and with her head down she does what I say.

Do you ever just want to bang their heads against a wall and scream _why? _Well I don't have the time for that but so help me god if I did…

The car comes to life and I let out a sigh of relief, and for a moment I close my eyes, when I open them I see our perfect looking house standing tall, the red roses around the porch looking so bright.

The car still runs, but the second before I reverse seems to last for hours, as I see those too red roses, the ones that suddenly remind me of all my son's blood. Blood that still covers my hands, and suddenly I can't stand the sight, I promise my self in that brief moment that the first chance I get I'm going to rip all those roses out.

-x-

_Blame it on the roses  
Blame it on the red  
Running out of time  
Running out of breath_

_Saying hey now we're bleeding for nothing  
It's hard to breathe when you're standing on your own  
We'll kill ourself to find freedom  
You'll kill yourself to find anything at all_

_You say good-bye  
Every day and night  
With writing on the walls  
Everybody's gonna need somebody  
To take our troubles, and our worries, and our problems all away_

_'Cause, hey you're just bleeding for nothing  
It's hard to breathe when you're standing on your own  
We'll kill ourself to find freedom  
You'll kill yourself to find anything at all_

_Hey now you're bleeding for nothing  
It's hard to breathe when you're standing on your own  
We'll kill ourself to find freedom  
You'll kill yourself to find anything at all_

_Hey now, hey now, hey now  
Right now_

_- _Hey Now, Augustana

**Next chapter: Sawyer **


	10. The Middle

**Disclaimer: I do not own one tree hill (and quite frankly at the moment I would be ashamed to) and I do not have any rights to or own anything jodi picoult ever wrote. I'm just borrowing a few characters and plots and that for fun.**

**I'm not sure I did Sawyer justice, I've been dying to get inside her head from the beginning but I'm not exactly happy with the chapter, but here it is, Sawyer Scott.**

**Thanks NicoleDavis92x, bella, allie (watch out for the mention), abc, mel, alex, elena (this chapter is for you), redunicorns01, and poppiam. It always means a lot to get reviews, so thanks again and I hope to hear back from you this chapt as well. Hugs, luv Mickei.**

_Hey, don't write yourself off yet  
It's only in your head you feel left out  
Or looked down on  
Just try your best, try everything you can  
And don't you worry what they tell themselves  
When you're away._

_It just takes some time, little girl in the middle of the ride  
(over, and over)  
Everything, everything will be just fine (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be alright (alright)_

_Hey, you know they're all the same  
You know you're doing better on your own (on your own)  
So don't buy in.  
Live right now  
Yeah, just be yourself.  
It doesn't matter if it's good enough  
For someone else_

-x-

Chapter Ten

_*Sawyer*_

If there is one thing I know it's when I am in trouble, there's a certain way my name is said, with the slightest flicker of disappointment. So when my favourite professor stops me as I'm about to leave his lecture I know it's not a good thing.

The grimace I wear as I take the seat he offers isn't on purpose, and I hear him sigh and then he slaps a familiar sleeve on the desk, "well done"

I say nothing.

"By far the best paper in the class" he adds on, and I just kink my eyebrow. What does he want me to do, pat myself on the back?

Leaning against the desk he crosses his arms, "it _would_ have marked the highest if I didn't have to deduct for late admittance"

"Good to know" I reply dryly and go to stand up.

It's not until I'm half way through the door his voice reaches me again, "you have so much potential, Sawyer, why do you insist on wasting it?"

For a moment I pause, and then I just leave. I don't need to explain myself to some teacher, I don't need to explain myself to anyone but for some reason his voice hovers inside my mind long after I leave class.

…

From my experience if you ask someone what their favourite colour is the majority will say either blue or black, of course you'll get your occasional other colour, the person who loves green or red or pink or yellow or orange or purple - you get the picture.

My dad says black is his favourite colour, which is strange considering I rarely see him actively preferring black. My mom is a red person, and you don't have to know her very well to know this. Keith doesn't have a favourite colour, and Abby likes green, sometimes she just stares at trees and stuff, weird I know.

I like white. There is something calming about it, so clean and fresh, white can become anything. It's just the beginning, and white can erase things like it never existed. Besides, I just like the way it looks, deeper meaning aside.

One of my favourite things about the colour white is the contrast next to other colours, clouds fascinate me. At the park I slip off my shoes and walk into the sand, it's white and my feet sink into its cool depth until my dark jeans brush the ground. With a smile I lift my face up and observe the area, across on the playground a young girl is wearing a flapping white dress and I'm drawn to her as she goes down the slide before running across the sand and over to one of the other children.

The camera in my hand itches and I lift it, tucking a stray blonde strand behind my ear before placing the lens in front of my eye. My subject comes into focus, I change a few settings my fingers moving instinctively and then I wait patiently for the perfect picture to come to me.

I'm not a very patient person, except when it comes to my art. Dad's art is the written word, Mom's is fashion and beauty, Aunt Haley's is music, everyone has their art and mine is the camera.

So I wait, and then the little girl plucks a flower, the delicate pink brushing her rosy cheeks, and I zoom in, her big green eyes suddenly pop out and then she tilts one side of her lips in a small sneaky smile. And I press down.

There is so much beauty in the world, sometimes you just have to wait to see it.

Like potential.

There it is again, that word that seems to haunt me, I have _so _much potential. This is where you insert the eye roll. Or maybe not, maybe everyone is right, maybe I can do and be better, but as it is I feel like I am barely scraping through.

Nothing I do is ever good enough, nothing I do can ever save my family, I'm not Abby or Keith, and I am not dad with his perfect words, or mom who always seems to know what to do. I don't, I don't have some instinctive map of how to act. I'm not a saint, and I am far from perfect, and being in my family seems to highlight that fact.

When I was younger I went through phases where I was convinced I was from a different family, and maybe that could explain the way I am. How can I be the offspring of the saintly Peyton Sawyer Scott, the daughter of Lucas and Brooke Scott?

The truth is I'm broken, that has to be it - I am somehow broken. A piece that just doesn't fit and nothing I can do will ever change that.

It wasn't always so prominent, for so long I thought I did belong, I was different but we were all different, it wasn't until I was twelve that it really hit me just how much apart I am from the rest of the family. I'm not a 'real' member.

I still remember the day I first looked at Mom and saw a stranger, that blank look she gave me, the one that stated louder than words that I was not her daughter. The thing was even then it didn't really hit me, it wasn't until weeks later that it really sunk in why I'm different to the others – I'm not hers.

It sucks, especially seeing she's always belonged to me for as long as I can remember.

Arms wrap around me, forcing me out of my thoughts, there is no urge to lean backwards, but I still smile as his breathe tickles my ear, "let's get out of here"

I laugh at the arrogance in his voice, "what, not even a hello?"

Van turns me in his arms, that grin on his face which speaks of charming lies and seduction, "I'll give you a hello" and without another word he kisses me.

Closing my eyes I drown myself in the contact, desperate to feel something, anything, but there is a flicker and then it's gone.

I feel like my body, my mind and that ethereal force inside me known as a soul are all disconnected. I feel all, just not together, like I am watching my life but I'm not really there. I'm feeling my life, but there is a thin veil between it and me that stops me from really experiencing it.

If I could rip it down… well, part of me is scared about that what if.

Pulling away I smile, my smile never reached my eyes, it doesn't even get half way, it's slightly cocky, mysterious and mocking, "Well, I guess that will do"

He never holds me for long, which is a good thing I guess, Van let's me go, grabs my hand and starts to pull me towards my car, "Gotta surprise for ya"

Feigning interest I lift my brow and follow him more willingly, no doubt that surprise is what it usually is.

At my jeep he swings me around and pushed me against the door, his lips once again on mine, and the whole time he's smiling. He smiles a lot, half the time his emotions aren't even connected to that grin, it just seems to be stuck on his face.

"I have to go" I cut into the kiss, pushing at Van's chest, "Van I have to go"

Rolling his head back he steps away, all contact removed, "okay, then let's go"

It's all too easy, Van isn't the push over type, his charming smile hides a darker side, the side that says _my way or else_. A shiver runs down my spine, and for a moment I just stand there unable to move but then he turns back to look at me his smile still on but his eyes colder.

Masking my fear I unlock the car and hop in, I look out at the world through blurred vision, but every now and then everything becomes clear, even if just for a second. Fear is one of the triggers; it's why I always come back, because I need it. I need that rush of emotion that makes me _feel_. There's something about him, always something that draws me back. It's the way he can look at me sometimes, the way his words are focused entirely on me, that tell me he _cares_ and if it's not that, if it's not some delusion that he actually cares about me it's that other side, when he gets me so angry I yell, I hit, I kick until all that emotion is just out, until I'm panting and out of breath. Its anger, and disgust and shame, its _emotion_, and sometimes that means pain.

The pain is best of all; the pain is what tells you you're still alive.

It's a cold pleasure, welcome and feared at the same time, pushing you to your limits, just a little more and just a little more to answer the question when is it too much.

A face hovers in my mind, young and almost empty, striving for more, and as I see her give a smile I can hear her voice as a stray memory comes back to me _"I hurt myself, you let others hurt you, in the end it's all the same"_

A flicker of anger sparks inside me and then it's gone. I blink, and start the engine.

…

I park under a tree by the road, taking a breath as I stare at the building in front of me, Abby's school and the one I use to go to. Then she appears stepping out from behind the tree, the same one I use to wait under to be picked up when I was younger.

Turning the radio down I meet Abby's eyes as she opens the back door and takes her seat, "thanks" she mumbles and I shrug, pulling away from the curb I keep one eye on my sister in the rear view mirror. When she called me and asked to be picked up early I didn't question it, I remember needing a break every now and then too, and with everything that was happening I don't blame her.

We don't 'talk' that much, truthfully I don't have much to say to her, no words of wisdom or stories I am willing to share. Not saying we're not close, we are, as close as we can be I guess. The silence that hovers between us is good enough because we don't need words to hear what the other is saying, sometimes you simply see it.

"Want a drink?" Van asks passing a bottle into the back seat and I watch the silent hard no Abby sends my boyfriend as she stares at him with bored hazel eyes, eventually Van blinks and faces forward again with a shrug. It takes not even a second for the bottle to be touching his own lips and I can feel my sisters gaze digging into the back of my head.

There are seven years between us, seven long years. I remember so well what it was like before Abby, hell I can picture perfectly what life was like before Keith too. I never wanted another sibling, another person to take my parents from me but once that little baby is there, once they wrap their little fist around your hand it tugs at the heart like nothing else.

You want to hate them and sometimes you do, anyone with a brother or sister probably knows that hate you can have for a sibling.

There is a love though that is always there, the love that roars up when something threatens what is yours because your family is so irrevocably yours.

You face the world with your family by your side, the good and the bad, and those ties built and strengthened with each new day form a bond that becomes stronger than anything else even your own thoughts and desires – most of the time anyway.

I find that in a family you are equally at your most selfish and selfless.

It's not exactly a proud moment for me to think I tend to lean on the selfish side and with Abby in the car I have a living breathing reminder of what it means to be selfless, then again maybe not.

As if she can sense my thoughts Abby's voice cuts in interrupting my criticism, "you didn't tell Mom, did you?"

Like I'm crazy?

Does she really think I'm looking to be killed, Mom would murder me if she found out I was corrupting precious Abby, "relax, Brooke is unaware of your little walk on the wild side" I try to sound like it means nothing, like I have no worries in the world and it works. She sighs and leans back, her arms wrapping around herself, "so-" I ask "-where to?"

…

We come to a stop a mere metre away from the court and before I even turn the engine off Abby is out the door, "give me a sec" I murmur to Van and follow my sister.

The wind whips my loose blonde hair across my face and I impatiently try to stop it as I make my way to Abby, she is walking determinedly towards the edge of the river bank and ignoring my calls, "Abby! Hold up, bitch"

My boots hit the court with each step I take as I cut across it, and by the time I reach the other side a memory come out of nowhere.

….

"Get off her" I scream running towards the court, my heart thumping as hard as my feet, "get off her you fucking little bastards!" I'm sixteen, and I'm angry.

The two bodies on top of my sister just keep going, one twit holding Abby's head down while the other tries to punch her. Abby kicks and hits out and mostly the two others are holding her down but all I see is my sister in trouble.

I pull the black haired bitch off first, throwing the small body to the side before lifting the other kid off.

Abby jumps up, her eyes blazing a stormy grey with flecks of brown, and she rushed towards me and kicks the kid in my arms. I swing him around, instinct coming to me but I send questioning eyes to Abby, "what the fuck?"

Abby kicks the boy again, trying to get to him as I get in the middle, the girl who I threw earlier jumps on Abby's back and I swear word escapes as I drop the boy in my arms and pull the girl off Abby a second time.

This time when she's free I hold onto my sister, wrapping an arm around her skinny waist and gripping as hard as a can as she tries to get away. The others run away and soon she starts crying as the anger leaves her, she still kicking and hitting but her attention is on me but I continue to hold her. So small, so small and sad.

"They said Keith is going to die, they called him cancer boy, they said he was going to die" she repeats over and over again, reliving each harsh word the kids had said.

I close my eyes and keep holding on, minutes go by and her fighting stops until she's clutching onto my jacket and burying her face in my chest.

"They don't know shit" I say but I'm angry because I know they are right and we're wrong so when Abby finally pulls away and wipes her eyes, a smile on her lips, a smile so like my own, I smile back.

Then Abby says in a tone I know all too well, "he's not going to die, I'm gonna stop it, they'll see, I'm gonna stop it"

She sounded just like Mom.

…

Abby reaches her destination and finally turns to look at me, my feet move faster but when I reach her she moves out of arms reach, "don't touch me" she screams, "I am so sick of this, I want it to be over!"

I touch her shoulder, "it will be"

And the smallest of sobs breaks free from her, "I can't do it anymore, I just can't, and I told Keith and I told him I hate him, but I don't, I don't hate him, I don't"

"Ok" I say, at a loss for words. I've never been good with words, that isn't my role in the family but I was never really good at turning my back as much as I wanted to. I don't touch her, I just nod "whatever you want, do whatever you want"

We stand here for ten minutes, Abby staring at the river while I watch her, eventually she steps back and I catch her hand slipping the object from my pocket into her grip. I wrap her fingers around it and move away, "you've sacrificed enough" I finish, turning away and walking back to the court.

She is standing there looking down at the charm bracelet when I turn back, I watch Abby slip it back onto her wrist where it never should have left, and then she opens her bag up and pulls out the basketball, clutching it to her abdomen Abby sits down and lifts her face up to the sun, her eyes shutting.

Once again I walk away, returning to the car and starting the engine as if I never stepped out, and I simply drive away.

…

One lock, two, three, four, five, six locks, one after the other until they are all done, I spin around "what do you have for me?" I say without pause and Van lifts his shirt off, I give an appreciative look down his body but what I really want is something else. He ignores me and walks over to the far wall, eyes scanning the layers of photos there, "that your parents?" he asks, even though he knows it is. I still oblige Van and nod, then I watch as he lifts a hand and touches photo after photo. He stops and touches the edge of one "who is that?"

When I walk forward and see the image that has his attention I feel something inside me tighten. Three faces look up in that one photo, Keith and Abby with one other between them. They are smiling, looking so happy.

I remember that day.

"Who is she?" he asks again.

Clenching my jaw I take the photo and rip it from the wall, I take a moment to look into those wide grey eyes in a too pale face framed by black hair. It's like staring at a stranger, but that's what Allie became towards the end. The photo bends in my hand, crinkling in my fist before I throw it in a ball to another corner, "nobody" I answer.

I look away and walk over to my stereo, turning it on at the same time Van dumps his bag on the bed. Kicking my mess to the side I make my way to my desk, taking a drink from Van's bottle before stepping behind him.

Watching from over his shoulder I eye the plastic bags he one by one drops onto the sheet, smiling I pick up the next one he places down and quickly swallow two pills, downing it with another swig from the bottle.

Van takes the bottle and immediately replaces it with him mouth in a kiss that demands much, this time there is no play, no asking or patience. I laugh as he picks me up and throws me onto the bed, wincing as his hands tighten on my wrists when he spreads my arms out.

His fingers squeeze tighter, his teeth biting my lip until I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

My heart starts to beat faster, the music becomes so loud and soon I no longer care enough to think.

…

The banging doesn't stop, it keeps happening buzzing at the back of my head, it takes me a while to figure out its coming from the door.

Rolling my head I stare at it, _bang bang _it says.

Why? Who knows. Who cares.

It doesn't stop, why won't it stop? Because its waiting for me.

"You gonna get that?" Van asks, his head on my chest, and I can't speak but I move, sliding from under him and rolling off the bed. I grab the first shirt I see and pull it over my head, walking to the door with my heavy eyes. I should be jumping off the walls but I feel so heavy, no I feel light, so light I can't lift what I can't feel. I don't know.

I don't know.

One lock, two lock, lock, lock, lock, god so many locks. I open the door, blink, "what?" I say blinking again as Mom pears at me.

"It's Keith"

It's always Keith but I don't say that, I unlock the chain and step out, it's Keith. That means something, it's meant to mean something.

I'm not sure what, but Mom is looking at me and then she's got my hand and she's leading me away. I follow, I have to follow, I'm not sure why, I hate her, I am meant to hate her because she doesn't love me, she can't love me, she let me go, that's why I hate her. She let me go.

Why am I running?

What… right its Keith?

Keith. My brother. I stop at the car and I see him and I don't know why he's so red and it hits me - it's blood.

That sound, it's from me, then I speak, the words coming to me "holy shit"

"I need you to drive" Mom says and suddenly keys are in my hand, and I look at her. She needs me but… I can't. My hands are almost shaking.

Mom's dark gaze turns to me, that all knowing look, I turn my eyes to the keys then Keith and then I force them back to Mom

_Mom… _but no sound comes out.

Those eyes narrow, looking into my soul, I shift my feet, I think I shift my feet.

"Are you high" she hisses, her voice so loud yet so far away. I can't understand her, and then she speaks again "get in the back and hold your brother, we'll talk about this later"

The keys are gone, and I lower my head and do what she says, I can understand that much and seeing Keith more makes sense.

Hold my brother. I can do that, yeah I can do that.

I wrap an arm around his still body, and his eyes suddenly open to look up at me, the whites are pink and there is no shine in his hazel orbs.

I'm shaking my head and everything becomes a little clearer.

The car comes to life and we're reversing, I look up and see my mothers face in the rear view mirror, and finally I find the words "Brooke, it's going to be okay" but I don't think she sees me let alone hears me.

So I hold my brother.

…

By the time we get to the ER the world doesn't seem so confusing, I do my job, I hold my brother even when we get out of the car I still hold him. He's fifteen, he shouldn't be this light but carrying him is easy or it feels that way. I follow Mom and she grabs the first medic she can "he needs platelets" she orders and suddenly there is action all around me.

Mom is helping them move Keith, and then he's gone, and I stand there watching them all disappear behind closed doors, my arms still out in front of me. I look at my hands, now covered in blood, I look at them and for a while I don't understand why they are empty.

-x-

_It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the  
ride (over, and over)  
Everthing, everything it'll be just fine (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be alright (alright)  
It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the  
ride (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be just fine (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be alright (alright)_

_Hey, don't write yourself off yet  
It's only in your head you feel left out  
Or looked down on  
Just do your best, do everything you can.  
And don't you worry what the bitter hearts, are gonna say_

_It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the  
ride (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be just fine (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be alright (alright).  
It just takes some time, little girl you're in the middle of the  
ride (over, and over)  
Everything, everything It'll be just fine (over, and over)  
Everything, everything it'll be alright (alright)_

- The Middle, _Jimmy Eat World_

**Next chapter: New POV, familiar face. Another character enters the drama.**


	11. Say All I Need

**For Anne, my friend, my aunt. 8/1/2010. Who barely got a chance to fight leukaemia before it won the battle. **

_Do you know where your heart is?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Or did you trade it for something  
Somewhere better just to have it?  
Do you know where your love is?  
Do you think that you lost it?  
You felt it so strong, but  
Nothing's turned out how you wanted_

_Well, bless my soul  
You're a lonely soul  
Cause you won't let go  
Of anything you hold_

_Well, all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head_

_Do you know what your fate is?  
And are you trying to shake it?  
You're doing your best and  
Your best look  
You're praying that you make it_

_Well, bless my soul  
You're a lonely soul  
Cause you won't let go  
Of anything you hold_

_Well, all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head_

-x-

Chapter Eleven

_*Sam*_

There is something about a classroom, almost welcoming, the buzz in the air of minds seeking knowledge. Okay that is slightly pushing it, most of the time I feel lucky to have students that are awake let alone actually looking forward to what I try to teach them. Then again I'm not their 'real' teacher; I'm a substitute so most of the time students see me as a free pass to do whatever they want and a chance to try out pranks. Switching names, lying about due dates or what part of the work they are up to, or even swapping classes – just to name a few.

Still there are those classes, or single students, that make it all worth it and when you reach them it sends a feeling straight to your heart, a warm buzz that you've accomplished something mixed with the one you get when an innocent child wraps their arms around you.

I love knowing that I could have changed someone's life for the better, in a way my whole world is focused around that and I know exactly why it is so important to me. My whole adulthood was shaped by two women, if it wasn't for them I have no idea where I would be today but certainly not where I am. They gave me a chance, when I was a surly teenager with no faith in the human race they gave me something to believe in.

To do the same for someone else is the only way I can think to thank them, to be even half the type of women they were is how I repay them.

The bell rings and I let the teenagers go with a firm reminder that they've got an assignment due tomorrow, and then I am alone.

It's been twenty years since I walked into that classroom and had to answer to Haley James Scott, twenty long years since Brooke Davis opened her home to me. I haven't sat down and thought about them in a while, and I don't know why my mind strays to them today. Maybe I am feeling nostalgic or perhaps its just time.

My phone rings, I am in no rush to pick it up and take my time answering the call, "Samantha Colson" I say automatically, a smile in my voice.

"Sam, its Sylvia"

Sylvia Peters is a judge and a friend of mine, she was the one who suggested I become a guardian ad litem three years ago and I have often found myself standing across from her in the family court. It helps bring me a little extra money when things are tight and it helps with my reputation as well, you don't have to be a lawyer to be a GAL in fact it's probably an oxymoron considering the main requirements of a guardian ad litem is morals and a heart.

"Is this a social or professional call?" I ask to cut to the chase, though I have a feeling that whatever this is it's definitely not social.

Sylvia sighs, "work… there's a case, twelve year old girl seeking medical emancipation from her parents"

I can't help but whistle, "messy"

"Especially when you factor in the dying brother in need of a kidney, which is why we're trying to push this through as quickly as possible-"

"And you know I'm free, right" I interrupt.

There is a pause, then Sylvia begins speaking again "I was thinking about how this girl needs someone in her corner, it's going to be messy with two such strong sides and the parents are stuck right in the middle between two of their children, I don't envy them. Your strong, Sam, with a good heart and I know that you can compartmentalise and focus on the child at hand"

"And not on the dying kid" I add dryly.

"Well, yes. And then there's the matter of the family itself, they aren't exactly low profile which is why I called you, I know I can trust you to be discrete"

That's me, Sam Colson, trustworthy. I smile, mentally rolling my eyes "okay you can stop now with the compliments, I'm in"

There was a laugh on the other side and then she was giving me the name and address of the lawyer, I sat there speechless and tempted to ask her to repeat it but I didn't, I gave a shaky farewell and slipped the phone back into my handbag.

Well today has turned out to be one to walk down memory lane, why not a familiar face from the past. I guess somewhere I knew it was a possibility that one day our paths would cross, then again I never imagined Julian taking the sort of case that could make that happen.

Tapping my chin with a pen I let his face appear in my mind. He must be what, forty six or seven now, but I still picture him as a cocky twenty something who use to ruffle my hair, god, he's the closest thing to a father I've ever had which thinking back on now seems ridiculous. The man is barely ten years older than me, I laugh out loud, I can't imagine Julian as any sort of daddy in relation to me anymore but I can look back fondly on those months when he dated my foster mother Brooke and still feel like I was a part of a family.

…

With no classes scheduled for the last period of the day I leave the school early to head towards Julian's office on the other side of Charlotte, and staring up at the modest building I'm once again surprised by the turn he took in life. Crossing the street my eyes are fixed on the door leading up to where I know I'll find him but for some unexplainable reason I don't get there.

At the last moment I stop and turn to look behind me, my eyes go over my car and zoom in on the coffee shop I parked next to. Following instinct I quickly jog across the street barely acknowledging the cars on the road, the bell dings as I walk inside and straight away the chatter fills my ears. The rich smell of roasted coffee beans takes my breath away for a moment and I soak it in before really looking around. It takes all of two seconds to spot him.

Julian Baker.

All the background noises fade away until they are just a faint buzzing in the back of my mind, I walk around the line until I'm just behind him and I open my mouth, no words come out so instead I close it and just smile.

His back stiffens and then in slow motion Julian turns around, something clicks into place, some long ago emotion when things felt so right and he smiles back. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins but he doesn't speak, I kink my brow and then he half turns back to the front and orders a second coffee adding at the end "… three sugars, no make that five"

We continue to stand there for a while, speechless and then he hands me my coffee and shifts his eyes to one of the booths, I follow his lead.

"_Sampson_" he breathes out almost in disbelief.

I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear, "have I changed that much?"

He shakes his head quickly and his eyes widen, his lips pursed, then he took a sip of his drink and quickly placed it back down as it burned his mouth. I couldn't help but smirk.

"You grew up" he finally says.

I shrug, "that happens"

"Yeah, I just… wow, you're all grown up, the last time I saw you it was a angsty teen in front of me and now-" he motions to me "- you look _happy_, you look-" _grown up_ I silently add on as he stops. I'm a woman, mature and I have that presence you get when you finally grow into your skin, I get it. I fit me now.

"And you got _old_" I stretched out the word and averted my eyes as his narrowed at me, he placed a hand to his heart "_ouch, _Sammy"

"I tell it like it is"

"You always have, and seeing we are being so honest what are you doing here? Not that it's not great to see you _it is _but I am curious"

"Business" I say.

He looks at me harder, "you in trouble?" he eventually asks and I roll my eyes.

Kinking my brow higher I smirk "don't worry Julian my shoplifting days are over, no I'm a guardian ad litem among other things-"

His bushy eyebrows both rise and I can tell he's shocked as he cuts in "wait! _You're _Samantha Colson?"

"Yep"

Before I can say anything else Julian leans forward "you do know who this case is about, right?"

A twelve year old girl I thought but his expression warns me that there is something more important about it. Sylvia had mentioned the family wasn't exactly low profile, just how big is it, how big can it be in Charlotte?

"Well" I say slowly and then add on more cockily "see that is why I'm here, to find out and pick up the papers"

"So you _don't _know" He sits back and swipes a hand through his short hair, it looks curlier than I remember and there are dark grey strands all the way through it, I look away.

"What's the big deal?" I ask, he pales and I really look at him "Julian, what is it?"

His eyes meet mine, "does the name Abra Scott mean anything to you?"

My heart sinks, I can tell my face just turned three shades paler which is a miraculous feat considering how naturally white I already am. The name Scott means a lot to me, Abra not so much but Scott is definitely relevant to me.

"Sister to Keith" Julian adds on and I close my eyes. There goes that small hope it was Jamie's little sister.

"Daughter to Lucas and-"

"Brooke" I cut in opening my eyes, my cheeks now red "yes I get the picture"

Damn. The past really did come back today and not exactly in the best way. For a minute my mind fights to find another explanation but the facts are clicking into places I don't like.

I down my coffee quickly and the sugar sends a nice sensation through my body but it is not good enough to help keep away the dread, "so, Abra? The twelve year old suing her parents?"

Julian is watching me carefully, he nods.

"_Keith _is sick?" I ask and a mental picture pops up in my mind and I mumble under my breath "he was such a good baby"

He must have heard me because his eyes fill with a million questions, ones I am not ready to answer. "Right" I say decisively, focused on leaving the past where it belongs "show me the files"

…

There is a lot of medical information that goes straight over my head, a lot of dates and information to take in and I keep trying to picture the people I use to know going through all this.

Poor Brooke, why did she never _tell _me any of this… what am I thinking, I never gave her the choice. Damn.

The whole time I've been in his office Julian has been watching me, he occasionally shifts positions but his eyes never leave me. Questions burning in the gaze, finally as I reach the end of the last paragraph I break the silence "thirteen years"

With a sigh I close the folder and place it onto the desk, I look at Julian trying to mask the emotion, "it's been thirteen years since I've seen her, and a few more since the last time we talked, I didn't know about Abby or Keith getting sick"

"I'm sorry" he whispers and I blink away the tears, "don't be, it wasn't your fault" I reassure him, I never got why people apologized for things that weren't their fault especially to the people who were to blame. Suddenly I laugh; it comes out of nowhere "I was one of the bridesmaids, you know"

I'm not sure when I stood up but suddenly I'm pacing, "I don't think I ever saw Brooke happier than that day" and through the corner of my eyes I see Julian wince, I turn towards him "I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"It's okay, I'm not Lucas Scott, the message was received loud and clear a long time ago"

At first I hadn't gotten the big deal, the whole Brooke and Lucas thing, I didn't know all the details about their past. In fact I had been completely shocked when Brooke had confessed to me that she was dating Lucas, it seemed so strange to me seeing that Lucas had barely anything to do with Brooke when I lived with her, in fact he was so linked to Peyton in my mind it had seemed sort of _wrong_. Then I saw them together, and I saw the way people reacted to them, the way Haley so carefully watched them happy and scared at the same time. I thought it was about Lucas moving on after Peyton, that happiness but fear at the same time. Haley had to explain it to me, that it was more about Brooke, how Lucas was the only person who could reach a certain spot in her heart – the only person who could break it so completely. And it worked both ways. To me Brooke and Lucas had never existed before this, for everyone else it had always been there, their names linked even if they were never said together.

For Brooke nobody was Lucas Scott, and watching their life together I realised that there were two Brooke's. The one with Lucas and the one without, she was complete, different and just _happier _with Lucas. It was hard to explain the difference if you couldn't see it for yourself.

Looking back on the past I realise Julian must have figured it out the hard way.

"She loved you" I quickly say, forcing as much sincerity into the words as I can. I had _seen _that, hadn't I?

Julian's expression changes, a cruel smile tilts his lips "no, she wanted to love me"

I find there is nothing I can say to that. My mouth opens but I close it, sensing my discomfort Julian walks over and hands me the file that is meant for me, I go to grab it but he doesn't let go. I'm forced to look at him, his hand still firmly gripping the documents he says carefully "are you ready for this Sam because it's not going to be easy, you're going to be against her and you're not allowed to think about what this will do to Brooke you have to be focused on Abby, one hundred percent, and if you can't do that then it's better if you leave now while you still can"

The words hit me one by one and I force my eyes down to where both our hands grip the file, I tug and he lets go, I look back up acting far braver than I actually feel "I'm ready"

I have to do this, not despite of the past but because of it.

…

"_What do you think? Tell me the truth because Naley thinks it should be condemned" _

It's not the same, a lot of years have been put into the house, and it's so far away from what it was the last time I stood here and a lifetime different to the piece of shit Brooke first showed me.

It's different yet the memories still flood back.

I suck in a breath. Did I really say I was ready? What a load of bull.

"Move it or lose it kid" Julian murmurs stepping behind me and I move over, glaring at him I shoot back with just enough bite in my voice "give me a moment" and I sigh, observing the house again.

The last time I was here it was when Brooke told me she was pregnant, I missed the baby shower and I hadn't shown up to the christening.

"_Why didn't you come?"_

Her voice begs in my memory, hurt, but how could I tell her that she had moved on and I needed to as well. I couldn't be an outsider in somebody else's family, I couldn't live on the sidelines, it had been time for me to finally pick my family and stick with it. Going between Rebecca and Brooke hadn't been healthy for any of us, and Brooke would never let me go so I had to do it for her. I didn't make it pretty.

Out of nowhere Julian takes my hand, his fingers looping through mine in a reassuring squeeze, shocked I looked at him even as his warm hand offered me the comfort that quickly soothed my nerves.

"Sorry" he said taking his hand away, "you looked like you needed support"

After a few awkward moments I softened and took his hand back "thank you" I said but he didn't reply back, he allowed me to take his hand and cling to him as we walked to the door and then as I rang the doorbell he let go and nudged my shoulder and I nudged him back fighting the smile.

The wait seemed endless, I glanced at the jeep in the driveway then back at the door but nobody answered. Julian pressed the bell again but the door remained closed.

"Well that was pointless" all those nerves for nothing, and I turn around.

She was tall, her body slim and already showing the curves of the woman she would one day be. My whole body froze as the girl at the end of the driveway stared at Julian and I, and I didn't need to see his look of recognition to know who she was.

Her hair was a dark blonde, or perhaps a light brown, it was hard to tell and her eyes were hazel, not like Brooke's had been, not a dark gaze that hovered somewhere between green and brown. No Brooke's daughter had big eyes that seemed to go between blue and grey and as she came closer, bouncing the basketball in her hands, I could see the yellow and brown speckles in their depth.

She didn't look like Brooke yet she did.

Abby plucked the headphones from her ears and looked from Julian to me, "hello"

"Hi, you must be Abby"

She dropped the ball and caught it between her feet, leaning forward she offered me her hand "yeah, and you're?" and the minute she smiled her face transformed into her mothers. There weren't two identical dimples, it wasn't nearly as dazzling, if anything Abby had her father's smile but it changed her features enough that for a moment it was like staring straight at a lighter Brooke.

My breath caught but I took her hand and shook it.

"Abby Scott, meet Sam Colson, she's going to be your guardian ad litem" Julian speaks when I don't.

A light appears in the girls eyes as she takes her hand back, "ah so _you _are the one whose opinion counts"

"Something like that" I mumble and she picks the ball up again and walks around me, her free hand searching through the side pocket of her bag.

Julian turns and so do I and soon I'm stepping through the door inside a house I haven't entered for nearly sixteen years.

Abby drops her bag and looks around, "Mom isn't home"

"Is that usual?" I ask, after all I'm meant to observe this girls life.

Her back may be to me but I see her shoulders tense, her pony tail sways from side to side as she shakes her head. The sound of keys dropping onto the nearby table is loud in the otherwise silent house, "no" Abby says needlessly "this is not normal"

I've never felt so out of place as following this young girl through her empty house especially when she stops at her brother's door. The gasp is mine and Julian lets out a long breath, I can feel him standing behind me his body warmth a constant shadow, and Abby just stands there for a moment unmoving and silent.

When she turns around her face looks blank, her eyes devoid of all emotion, barely glancing at us she mumbles quietly "I better clean it up"

While Julian and I can't move from the spot Abby gathers what she needs from some unseen place and starts to wipe up the blood, she works furiously and then she begins to slow, her shoulders shaking.

By the time I reach her she's crying and shaking with the effort to stop but the whole time she continues the task at hand. I take the bloody rag from her hand and pull her into my arms, her tears wet my neck and I close my eyes as I hold the fragile girl in my arms.

We continue to sit there on the ground until her body stills and then I look over her head to Julian and motion for him to take her, the moment he leads her away from the room I pick up from where Abby started.

Getting all the blood out is hard, washing it off me for some reason is even harder as I picture Brooke and Abby living this life. Looking up from my now clean hands I come face to face with my reflection, for a second I'm looking at a fifteen year old me and then I blink and I'm back in the present.

Back downstairs I sit across from Julian and Abby; I don't know what to say.

Abby is the first to speak "we had a fight" she says suddenly as she stares at her hands in her lap, "me and Keith, the last thing I said to him is I wish he died"

"Do you?" I ask.

Her eyes shoot up, "I don't have friends" at first I'm slightly shocked at the sudden turn, at the way she can go from where she just was to where she was now but then she continued "I have family. There wasn't time for sleepovers or play dates, my whole life the world has been focused on one thing – keeping Keith alive. I didn't care about playing barbies when I could lay next to Keith and hear him read me a story, I didn't care about going outside when my brother couldn't, I didn't care about school when my best friend was in hospital, he's not just my brother he is my best friend. I don't want him to die but he's dying and I've spent my whole life fighting that, I'm not strong enough anymore, I just can't"

She's dying, I see it as clearly as the doctors would in her brother, it may not be as obvious but on the inside Abby is dying and if she doesn't get out soon she's not just going to lose her brother she is going to lose herself.

"Have you talked to your parents about how you feel?"

Abby tilts her head and looks at me as she thinks about how to answer my question, her eyes narrow "my mom and dad love me just as much as Keith, I know without doubt that if it was me they would fight just as hard, my whole family is like that. For years, for as long as I can remember we've been focused on keeping him alive, me too, how exactly is anyone meant to say they want out?"

Her question makes me wonder if it's just her, how many times has any of them had a moment to just stop and think _I can't do this anymore_ and then had to shake it away and just keep going because they couldn't think or feel that way. At what point is it okay to give up on someone you love?

She's twelve and she's had to make a tougher decision than any I've ever had to make.

Abby straightens up and adds on casually "no, I haven't talked to my parents about how I feel"

"I'm sorry" I say, I'm not sure for what, asking the questions or just what she has to be going through, she gives a one sided smile and there's something in her eyes that makes me think she's heard that a lot. Didn't I mock fake apologizes not too long ago and here I am saying sorry for something I have no control over.

Julian shifts to sit next to me and I'm thankful for it, Abby seems relieved too, she stretches out a little more and breathes in.

Then the front door opens and two sets of footsteps are heard coming closer, my back is to them but the first voice to speak I recognise immediately.

"Abra Victoria Scott, we have half the neighbourhood out looking for you" Haley's voice sounds stressed.

Abby stands up, ignoring the comment she goes straight to what is clearly on her mind "is Keith alright?"

"Alive and kicking" a new voice says, I turn around.

Haley spins to the blonde teenager at her side "Sawyer!"

I look the girl over with more interest, a picture of a grinning four year old stuck in my mind, she looks at her younger sister with a dry expression "sorry, I take back the kicking. I'll be upstairs" and she walks off. Haley sighs and turns back to us, she stops when she sees me and her eyes widen for a second and then she forces herself to return to Abby "he's... Keith… the doctors…" she stops and then rushes out "your Mom's gonna be at the hospital tonight"

"Dad?"

"He's going to get the first plane back"

Abby nods and then looks upstairs, "I'm gonna go check on Sawyer" and she leaves the room before I can get my head around everything going around me.

"Hello Haley" Julian breaks the awkward silence that has taken the room and it gives me the courage to look at Haley, she gives Julian a brief look of acknowledgement before focusing on me.

The way my former teacher looks at me is as if she doesn't quite believe what she is seeing, "Hi Haley"

"Sam?" she seems to wake up, shaking her head slightly she looks at me again and then she's walking forward, before I know it her arms are around me "Is it really you?"

I laugh "in the flesh"

She pulls away "what are you doing here? Oh my god, look at you, you cut your hair. You're in Tree Hill, did you move back? Do you want to see Brooke?" her tone suddenly changes "I don't know how much you know-"

"Haley, please breathe" I cut in at the same time Julian interrupts with a curt "she's Abby's guardian ad litem"

This is where I imagine they start breaking out in song with 'It's a small world', Haley doesn't seem one bit amused, and she looks between Julian and me "Brooke doesn't know yet, does she?"

We shake our heads, Haley bites her lip "oh boy"

I've imagined it over the years, every now and then I would pick up the phone and then put it back down or go type her name in the search engine before deleting it, in the fifteen years since I last talked to Brooke I have gone over it over and over again just how exactly I could re-enter her life.

It was never like this.

-x-

_I said all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head_

_Do you think you can find it?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Better than you had it  
Do you think you can find it?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Do you think you can find it?  
Yeah, better than you had it (Better than you had it)_

_I said all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head_

_I said all I need  
Is the air I breathe  
And a place to rest  
My head_

_Do you know where the end is  
Do you think you can see it?  
Well, until you get there  
Go on, go ahead and scream it  
Just say it_

_-Say (all I need), One Republic_

**So I spent a while trying to find lyrics for this chapter, couldn't really so settled for this so any ideas would be appreciated and I can edit it. As always thank you for your reviews, and I hope to hear from you again.**

**Next chapter: Lucas or Abby, you pick.**


	12. Running Up That Hill

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or it's characters, or anything else to do with it, nor do I own the rights to Jodi Picoult's 'my sisters keeper'. Now if Mark wants to hand me over OTH I wouldn't complain.**

**I would just like to thank the reviewers for their support, so hugs to D, Nicole, Haleydavisbaker, Allie, Alex, Rohini, Elena and Brucaslover. **

_It doesn't hurt me.  
You wanna feel how it feels?  
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?  
You wanna hear about the deal I'm making?  
You, be running up that hill  
You and me, be running up that hill_

_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,  
Be running up that building.  
If I only could, oh..._

_You don't wanna hurt me,  
But see how deep the bullet lies.  
Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder.  
There's a thunder in our hearts, baby.  
So much hate for the ones we love?  
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?_

_You, be running up that hill  
You and me, be running up that hill  
You and me won't be unhappy._

-x-

Chapter Twelve

_*Abby*_

There is a line in one of my fathers books, it goes _'being brave is not the absence of fear, it's having the will do go forth in the presence of fear' _in which case I must be pretty brave because honestly I am scared. I wake up scared, I go through the day scared and I eventually fall asleep still shaking with fear. I don't know what to do, what is right or wrong, where to look or turn. I don't know what to say, or think, I am so lost in the indecision that every move I make racks me with fear.

Just walking upstairs makes me question every move I've made but I keep going, one step at a time until I reach Sawyer's old bedroom. It's still pretty much the same as what it was before she moved above the garage, it's not as messy and it doesn't have a million locks. It's hard to put a lock on a room with no door, so I don't knock seeing there is nothing to knock on, I just walk straight in.

Sawyer is sitting at the window, a cigarette in her hand and her legs tucked under her, she barely looks at me when I join her.

We sit in silence for a moment and then she says in her dry tone "same shit, different day" and I translate that as Keith is okay for now, nothing has changed. Then she puts out the cigarette before throwing the butt out the window, Sawyer runs a shaky hand through her long blonde hair before whispering "I fucked up"

I want to say 'what's new?' but I don't and she turns to me "it sucks either way you know. You think it's all on you, that saving him is in your hands and that sucks right but you have no idea what it's like to not be able to do _anything_, to have to watch as it all goes to hell and know nothing you do will ever fix it. _That _sucks" and Sawyer gives a bitter laugh before reaching for her another cigarette, her hands fumble with lighting it and eventually she just swears and gives up.

Her blue eyes look at me again and for a moment I think she's asking me what to do, asking me to somehow fix it all like I have the power she doesn't. I pull my legs up under my chin and wrap my arms around them, and then I reply "he cries sometimes and I can't make him stop, and he screams and I don't know what to do. But then they tell me what to do, and I do it, and he tells me what to do and I do it" I stop and look at my sister before adding on "but it never fixes anything"

"And this court thing, is that meant to fix it?" she shakes her head and answers her own question, "it's meant to end it but it won't, nothing ever will but good luck with that" and this time when she goes to light the cigarette it works.

Pointless, this whole thing is pointless.

"So, what'd you do?" I ask sitting back against the window and grabbing a cigarette, I don't light it I just put it between my lips and pretend. Sawyer looks at me again and laughs, she takes it out of my mouth and replaces it with her own, it's only there for a second before she takes it back and puts it between her own lips but it's long enough to make me cough. I try not to make it too obvious but Sawyer eyes me carefully and I can tell she knows I'm trying not to choke, she rolls her eyes and answers "pissed off Brooke"

"Maybe we should make a club" I kink my brow but then I close my eyes and sigh, it's not really funny for long.

I hear Sawyer tap the window, "looks like Aunt Haley is off, she's probably already told Mom you're home. Lucky she doesn't know that's my fault too"

With one eye open I observe my sister, sometimes I forget how old she is getting "nothings ever your fault"

She laughs loudly and twists the cigarette from finger to finger, "everything's my fault didn't you get the memo?"

I look at her in disbelieve, she can be so clueless sometimes, so determined to think the world is out to get her "right, sure, whatever" I say. It's pointless to tell Sawyer otherwise, she won't listen, she never does.

She fucks up and waits to be blamed, which hello she should be a lot of the time, when she smokes and drinks and pulls her shit she _is _to blame, I don't know why she acts like it should be someone else's fault. And when it's not her doing she still expects to be blamed, and no matter how we react she'll always see it that others blame her.

She won't see the way Mom and Dad constantly defend her, the way they will try to pin it on anyone other than Sawyer. It's the friends she hangs out with, or it's because of trouble with Keith, it's _their _fault because they can't be there for her like they want to sometimes even if she is the one pushing them away. It's _never _Sawyer's fault.

I'm pretty sure it's me that's gonna get in trouble about today.

That could be an adventure. I've never gotten in trouble before well until this whole thing started but so far I haven't been murdered or grounded so the way I see it so far so good.

"You coming?" Sawyer's voice breaks me out of my thoughts and I shake myself back to reality. Sawyer now has the window open, her blonde head poking out, she brings her body back inside and turns to me, a daring glint in her blue eyes "so?"

"What are you doing?" I practically yell as she slides the window up more.

She replies with a calm "Keith wants to see you"

I should hate those words, I want to hate those words but I don't, instead relief rushes through me and I follow Sawyer out the window.

This could get me in trouble, but hey, I might as well catch up on twelve years of doing just what I'm told.

…

You would think I would hate hospitals but the funny thing is I don't. I've spent a lot of my life within these walls, walking these halls, talking to the staff and patients, I know it and it feels like it knows me. I feel safe here, as safe as I do at home in my own bed. That is what this place is for me – it's my second home.

It takes ten minutes to find Keith's room, we stayed out of sight hoping no one would recognise us and finally we find Keith and Mom.

My brother is awake, barely, and mom sits with her legs crossed on the chair next to his bed, one hand lightly holding his hand while the other one holds open a book. She looks exhausted and so pale but she takes a deep breath every now and then and just keeps going on.

Sawyer controls her life by living out of control because there is nothing she can do to save the little brother she loves more than she shows, our mother never rests as she tries to keep us all surviving more than that she tries to keep us happy, and dad… I think he lost a little bit of his wife, the woman he loves, because of the cancer and he holds onto what he has left of his wife and family as strongly as he can. My brother lives life being prodded and poked, in constant pain with only brief glimpses into the world he could have only to have it taken away over and over again.

These are the things I see, the things I constantly think as I watch my family, seeing my brother and mother both fighting so hard it reminds me about it all. I know that the truth is they both just want to fall where they are and let go, let it all go, cry, yell, sleep just… let go.

Yet they can't.

I wish I could just take it all away, take the pain and confusion, I wish I could take the weight off their shoulders.

_I _am meant to be the one to save him.

"What now?" I ask Sawyer.

She pulls out her cell, "operation distract momma, just be quick – hi I need to speak to Brooke Scott in room…" and her voice trails off as she disappears down the hall.

My eyes widen and I turn back to look at Keith's room, seconds later a nurse walks in and leads Mom away.

Ducking into the room I race to Keith's side, his eyes are now closed, I hate seeing him like this with his eyes shut. There seems to be no life in him, so I do what I've done since I was a child, I gently rest my head against his chest above his heart and there it is.

Thump, thump.

It is the best sound in the world.

"Hey baby sis" his hoarse voice gets out and I just as gently lift my head up, we both smile and I can't help but say back simply "hey"

"You came"

"Of course I did, now what was so urgent?"

Out of all the things I expected I never expected his answer, his smile fades "do you remember your eighth birthday?"

"I-" and suddenly I can't speak.

"I'm sorry" he whispers "I am so sorry for everything, it's okay, it really is okay, I want you to know it's okay" and he sounds weaker with each word he speaks.

For a moment I jut sit, letting his words sink in and my chest gets tighter and tighter, my cheeks start to hurt and then my shoulders are shaking but it's still another moment before the tears start to fall.

I hate him, I hate how he can tell me its okay, I hate that he can never hate me.

As much as I hate the fact I don't hate him, as much as I try, as much as I tell myself I do, I simply can't.

…

The whole month before my eighth birthday we planned my party, it was pirate themed even after Mom tried to convince me a fairy party would be so much more fun. We planned the blow up ship in Aunt Haley and Uncle Nathan's pool, the food and decorations, the invitations were sent out, it was pretty much a done deal when the day before my birthday Keith was rushed to hospital.

There was no party, I spent my birthday in the hospital as my mother cried every time she thought we couldn't see but I saw it. I refused to leave the hospital and Keith couldn't so for over a week we all lived there.

It was one of the worst days of my life but I never blamed Keith, it didn't suck because I didn't get cake or some stupid party, it sucked because my brother was sick.

…

Back outside the room Sawyer grabs my arm, "we gotta get out of here" but it's too late because Mom is already in front of us.

"What the heck is going on here?" her dark eyes go between the taller Sawyer and me, her face has no colour and her eyes are red and I can tell its costing her standing in front of us. Her eyes settle on Sawyer "you were meant to stay home and keep an eye on your sister, did you _drive _here?" worry is in every word.

"Relax, I'm fine now" Sawyer shoots back straight away defensive.

"Fine?" Mom's voice grows louder "do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Did you think of the consequences of getting behind the wheel after this morning, forget what might still be in your system but you were in shock earlier"

Ignoring Mom Sawyer answered instead with "Keith wanted to see Abby"

And just like that she is looking at me, I fidget under her intense gaze and Mom looks away returning to Sawyer "take Abby home and by that I mean get a _taxi_" with out another word she spins around and walks around the corner back to Keith's room and I don't need to see her to know that she's going to turn that corner, lean against the wall and cry before returning to Keith.

Sawyer grabs my arm and drags me away, I don't exactly want to go but I don't want to stay either, I am torn and no matter what Keith says I know it's not okay, nothing will ever be okay no matter how this ends. Someone is going to lose.

…

When we get home Julian and Sam are still there, they don't look happy to see us, "you snuck out?" Julian asks, he yells but I choose to ignore that, "you do understand we have to show you're a mature girl capable of making her own decisions, where does skipping school and running around at this time of night fit into that?"

Sam touches his arm, "Julian, it's been a rough day let's just-"

He snaps to the other woman but her hand doesn't leave him, "if she thinks today was hard how will she cope being on the stand, how will she cope if she wins the case and doesn't give her brother the kidney? Today was _easy_"

"Ask her that, you don't have to yell" she shouts back sternly and Julian stops, he closes his mouth and looks at me and apologises but Sam has questions in her eyes, she steps away from Julian and looks between me and Sawyer.

She kinks her eye, it's funny but she kinda looks like my mom when she does that, "Julian has a point, I'm meant to observe you and come to a conclusion on what is best for you, that includes making sure this is what you really want, is it?"

Is it?

Do I want my brother to die? I've answered no to that already.

Do I want to have surgery? No, not really.

Do I want to quit this case?

"I haven't changed my mind" I say instead, it seems easier.

Sam studies me and then sighs, the whole room goes silent, even our breathing seems to stop making the clock sound loud.

It's Sawyer who breaks it, I feel her shift beside me and I face her just in time to see her head tilt and her eyes changed as if something has clicked into place. She's staring at Sam, finally she asks in a confused voice "do I know you?"

I turn back to face my guardian ad litem just in time to see her slip on a invisible mask, I can tell by the way she suddenly stands up straighter and by the way her emotions click off.

It's strange, she does look familiar in a weird way, my mouth opens but before any of us can say anything we freeze as a car door slams outside.

…

There is a line in one of my fathers books, it goes _'being brave is not the absence of fear, it's having the will do go forth in the presence of fear' _but sometimes a coward gets in too deep they are too scared to go back, too scared to stop it, so they go on. They aren't being brave.

It's because they're just as scared of what's behind them as what is waiting to be faced.

-x-

_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,  
Be running up that building,  
If I only could, oh..._

_C'mon, baby, c'mon, c'mon, darling,  
Let me steal this moment from you now.  
C'mon, angel, c'mon, c'mon, darling,  
Let's exchange the experience, oh..._

_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,  
With no problems  
_

_And if I only could,  
Make a deal with God,  
And get him to swap our places,  
Be running up that road,  
Be running up that hill,  
With no problems_

_'If I only could, be running up that hill._

- Running up that hill, _Placebo (originally by some Kate Bush chick but Placebo rocks)_


	13. Sway

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or it's characters, or anything else to do with it, nor do I own the rights to Jodi Picoult's 'my sisters keeper'. Now if Mark wants to hand me over OTH I wouldn't complain.**

**Here's the latest chapter, I hope you enjoy and if you like it or hate it feel free to tell me like the awesome people who did last time. Totally cliché and I'm sure you've read it before but the reviews really do help. So thank you to Nicole, Bella, Alex, Allie, Brennan and Rece, PS Rece I hope all is good and we can chat about the new CH soon.**

_I talk to you as to a friend  
I hope that's what you've  
come to be  
It feels as though we've  
made amends  
Like we found a way  
eventually _

_It was you who picked_  
_the pieces up_  
_When I was a broken soul_  
_And then glued me_  
_back together_  
_Returned to me what_  
_others stole_

_I don't wanna hurt you_  
_I don't wanna make you sway_  
_Like I know I've done before_  
_I will not do it anymore_  
_I've always been a dreamer_  
_I've had my head among_  
_the clouds_  
_Now that I'm coming down_  
_Won't you be my solid ground?_

-x-

Chapter Thirteen

_*Lucas*_

If you were to spread my life out in front of you, the good, the bad and the seemingly insignificant, it may read as a tragedy. If you look deeper, if you don't get distracted by the darker facts – dead beat dad, bullied, poor, murdered uncle, left at the alter, widowed, dying son – then my life is far from tragic. I've been gifted, I truly believe that, yes I have lost and may still lose more, and it is painful however the reason why it is so painful is because what I have lost was worth something and I count myself lucky that I had those people in my life in the first place. And in the end I still kept getting lucky, I lost an uncle but he'd been a father to me for years and gave me a sister, I lost a wife but I also got to experience falling in love all over again with Brooke, which gave me two more children, and yes Keith is sick but if it wasn't for that I wouldn't have Abby. So when do I say _'stop with the pain'_? I can'tbecause I never know what joy will be waiting for me around the corner.

I've wanted to capture that in one of my novels for a long time, the unexpected joys that could be found through pain, I believe that with my latest story I have finally accomplished that.

Lindsey, my editor and once fiancée, looks up from the last page and I see the tears in her eyes "Luke, this is… it is… wow" she stops and just keeps looking at me, "no matter how many times I read it I still feel like crying"

Of course the lost and found rules of life are something many of my characters experience but it ever seemed enough, not until now. I can't help but smile in pride "I'm glad you like it"

"Like it, Lucas I love it but there is just one detail-" and she stops and looks at me when I sigh, there is always 'one' detail, then two, then three and so on. Lindsey tilts her head and smiles "it's not anything in the book, it's the title" she tells me and I'm shocked how small the last problem is.

The truth is I never was particularly attached to the working title from the beginning, it was just I never found another title that seemed to fit either. The story centres on a heroine, coincidentally a sheltered best selling author, in her early thirties who lost her trust and faith in the world when she was raped as a child. Unable to emotionally handle a relationship she distanced herself and gave up on the dream of having children instead settling on becoming a foster mother. Even then she never let any of her temporary children too close, Tahlia as I named her would open her home to the troubled teens and somehow manage to fix them then send them out into the world. It all changes when she takes in a pre teen girl who refuses any bond at all with her, together the two struggle to open their hearts and let go of their insecurities enough to gain the family they both long for. Ultimately though they are parted by death but the effect her daughter had on her life remains with Tahlia. It's sappy and dramatic with just enough romance to get the reader hooked but at the core is a mother daughter relationship that nothing can get between.

"What's your idea?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"The choices that make you"

I go over it in my head and then nod, it is based off a quote from the book where Tahlia tells Sass that you're not defined by what life forces on you but instead by the choices you make in the wake of what you can't control.

The irony is I wonder about what sort of person my choices have made me.

"I am curious though" Lindsey leans forward, placing a hand under her chin her pale eyes meet mine, dragging my attention back to the real world I smile at Lindsey, "about what?" I ask.

Her smile, with its secret little knowledge, tilts more "what is it this time?"

I look at her in confusion, Lindsey leans forward more "come on, Luke, it's killing me"

"I have no idea what you are talking about"

"The _thing_" she clarifies with a knowing look.

Ah, the thing.

"You didn't figure it out this time?" I play with her. It's amazing how our relationship, or should I say friendship, has been mended over the years.

"It can't be the foster mother thing, I thought so at first but then I changed my mind, it's something else more subtle, it always is, something more _personal_"

The laugh escapes me and I shake my head, then I think back to Tahlia, my heroine. That leads my mind back to my wife, piece by piece I see her in my mind, flashes of her personality and looks come to me. Her laugh, her earlobe, her eyelashes, her hand touching her collarbone, the flush on her cheeks, the curve of her spine, and the outline of her hips silhouetted on our sheets, the back of her knee, her ankle, her legs spread out with her bare feet on our table. Her smile and her voice saying my name. And back to her bare feet.

"Brooke has this thing-" I begin.

Lindsey laughs; leaning back in her chair she bites the tip of her pen "the _thing_"

I barely hear her, my mind is locked on my wife "for as long as I've known her she's had this thing with her feet, I've never seen a woman with as many shoes as her but the first opportunity she gets off they come, she walks around the house with her perfectly painted toenails on display, I turn around and there they are perched on the coffee table, lying across the lounge, hanging off the bed, curled in my lap…"

"Do you even realise the look that comes on your face when you talk about her?" there is no regret, pain or jealousy in her voice, emotions like that are long gone between us. If anything Lindsey is a supporter of my marriage, in fact she calls Brooke my muse. It may have to do with the long line of bestsellers I started knocking out after we officially became a couple, the first one appearing in bookstores a mere month after our wedding simply dedicated to _my wife_. Give her an inspired author and Lindsey is happy and over the years that happiness has turned into genuine approval, she was even the one to pick up on the fact that my 'leading lady' always has a Brooke-ism.

"I have some idea"

"Now-" she stops as the phone in my pocket starts ringing, I quickly check it "it's Brooke" I say and Lindsey looks at me with understanding. I'm bringing it to my ear even as I stand up and turn away "hey-"

"Lucas" her voice ends there, cracking on my name and I can tell just by her tone something is wrong. She doesn't start a phone call with my name like that unless what comes next is something bad, "what happened?"

"You have to come home" which means it has surpassed bad.

Without even really thinking about what I am doing I find myself turning back around and grabbing my bag, "I'm on my way"

Lindsey sends me a sympathetic smile and a wave goodbye, I wave back, shrugging the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walk away "I'll get the next possible flight back… and Brooke, hold in there".

…

Time passes you by in the blink of an eye, one moment you are a living the simple life where your biggest worry is being picked on at school at that seems like the end of the world, and then the next you are an adult, you get your heart broken, you lose a friend, a family member, your career falls around you and suddenly those teenage troubles were another lifetime ago and you would give anything to have school be your biggest problem.

I am a father, a husband, relied upon and half the time I have no idea what words to speak or actions to make. In the end nothing I do fixes anything.

How time passes us by, in a blink a perfect world is turned upside down, in a blink a life is at risk.

Makes you wonder what you are missing every time you close your eyes. Could you have changed something?

Anything?

If I had been th… I don't finish the thought; it has already circled around inside my mind the entire plane ride. The what if questions assail you when you learn your child is sick. Brooke and I went through that process for a long time, torturing ourselves over every choice we had ever made. Yet you can't help it, and when something new arises those same self doubting questions come, as well as the bargaining, the praying and the endless hope.

Please, please just let my family be okay. We've been through so much, spare them this time. Please God if you are listening, spare them.

The prays come naturally, an old instinct I fall back on no matter how irrational it is, no matter how often they go unanswered.

Like I said, the endless hope, yet without it what else is there to hold us together and not have love tear us apart.

…

Something that never changes, no matter how dark the time, is the deep relief that comes over me whenever I come home. Whether I am gone one hour, one day or an entire week, coming home relaxes my shoulders and fills me with the same warmth that spreads all the way down to my belly. Like a satisfying drink after a long day.

A sight for sore eyes are the perfectly trimmed roses, the lawn that needs mowing, the single basketball hoop hanging above the garage door and that porch light already on even though the sky hasn't darkened yet. I look up, behind me comes the glow of the sun yet in front of me the white moon already shines in the cloudless sky.

Pulling the suitcase from my car I slam the door shut and start towards the front, my eyes stray to the extra cars parked nearby and a frown creases my brow, I do not recognise either vehicle, and even as I keep walking and keep an eye on the cars another one pulls into the driveway.

I'm already at the door and the pizza boy climbs out and quickly jogs over, I fumble with the keys and quickly unlock the door so it is open by the time the pizza boy meets me.

"Hey Coach S" he says and I recognise one of the varsity players younger brother, a good kid just not the most coordinated teen in Tree Hill.

"One second" I quickly, push the door open and place my suitcase in front of it, then I rummage for my wallet, my dark trench coat has deep pockets and eventually I find the stubborn object, pulling a twenty out I hand it over "does this cover it-" and he nods "-keep the change"

"Thanks, later Coach S"

"See you at school, Jeffries" though my farewell is half-hearted. My mind is too occupied with thoughts of my son and the latest turn in a long line of bad turns, and of course that leads me to Brooke who is even now waiting for me at the hospital.

Holding the pizza with one hand I kick the suitcase with my foot and shut the door behind me, as I walk inside the clock catches my eye.

It's seven o'clock. I shake my head; trust Brooke to not miss a deadline.

"Abby! Sawyer! I'm home" I call out leaving my luggage and walking further inside, "you'll never believe your mother-" I turn into the living room and stop.

At first I do not understand, I can't comprehend the sight in front of me. Am I dreaming?

Samantha Walker is inside my house, looking older but there is no doubt in my mind the woman standing on the other side of the room is my wife's former foster daughter.

Confused I shift my gaze to Julian who stands right behind her and then to my daughters, Abby's eyes look too big for her face as a guilty expression takes over but Sawyer gives me a sly smile and in a few steps closes the gap between us "god, I'm starving! Thanks dad"

"Thank your mother" I manage to say, it comes out shakier than I expect, and my stare returns to the adults across the room as Sawyer takes the box from my hand. "What's going on here?"

"Uh-Dad-uh-" Abby stumbles over her words.

"Lucas" Julian cuts in stepping forward and the grin he sends my way doesn't sit well for me, my feelings for the former producer have always been ambiguous and knowing he is representing my baby girl in this life changing case which could mean the end for one of my other children… it doesn't exactly make me feel like opening my home in welcome to him, in fact for some reason I am fighting the urge to punch that stupid grin off his face.

"What are you doing here Baker? Keith is in the hospital this isn't the time for-"

"Say no more, this is bad timing however I was just-" his eyes skitter to Abby "-conferring with my client and introducing her guardian ad litem"

Straight away I look at Sam, all grown up and another tie to the past getting pulled into this mess "I don't understand" yet I am afraid I understand all too well.

"She's the chick who gets to watch Abby and represent what's best for her-" Sawyer answers with her mouth full, then she shrugs and adds on "or something like that"

While I just stand there Sam walks forward with her hand out, "Samantha Colson" she introduces and not knowing what else to do I take her hand and return the handshake, eyeing her carefully I say a completely worthless "Lucas Scott" and our eyes lock, our hands stay gripped together and a message passes between us, one saying this is not the time to announce the history between Sam and my family.

Then her name hits me again. Colson? She would be close to thirty five, married perhaps with possibly children even. Our hands still in the shake I check for a ring but her fingers are bare, Sam pulls away and Julian is immediately by her side, a hand to the small of her back "maybe we should talk" he says.

I nod, twisting around I address my daughters, Sawyer sits on the couch eating with a anxious looking Abby wringing her hands as she perches on the side of the couch, "Sawyer why don't you and Abby take dinner upstairs for a bit"

She stands up in a flash, "more than happy too, come on Shorty lets leave the adults to talk about us alone" and she pulls her sister away.

"Princess" I stop Sawyer and she looks back at me, "when you're finished can you please put together Keith's bag for me to take up?"

"Sure thing" and then Sawyer drags Abby further away and until they move out of sight Abby's eyes are trained on me, a begging question in them. I can already picture her asking me if she can come to the hospital too and I already know what my answer should be. Keith would want her there, it will be better for Abby too and maybe just maybe if she saw Keith she may change her mind.

"I have trouble believing this is what Abby wants" I say out loud in a low whisper, not only to Julian and Sam but to myself, I turn away from the doorway and face the others who suddenly hold my families fate in their hands.

"Maybe because that's not what you want to hear, how much clearer does the kid need to be before Brooke and you realise she is serious. Abby doesn't want to do it anymore, _that _is the truth" Julian's word feel harsh and I understand them yet… it just doesn't feel right.

He doesn't know my daughter, Julian hasn't watched her grow up into the amazing selfless young girl she is now, and he hasn't had to comfort her through years of uncertainty. Someone like him couldn't possibly understand the bond between our family, how could he, a man who has no family.

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Do you Lucas?" he shoots back.

Sam steps in between us, "let's just take a moment and breathe" then she looks to just Julian "maybe its best if you just go now"

"I have a right to be here, I am Abby's lawyer"

"And I'm her _father_" anger boils in me, it is meant to _mean _something! I am their father and there is no way I am going to let this outsider take away from that, "you waltz in half way through the show and act like you know everything, YOU DON'T, _you _weren't the one who had to explain why her brother was sick, or had to hold her hand as they prodded and poked her, soothing her tears when all you want to do is cry yourself, _you _didn't listen to the screams when they take her brother away on that gurney, or have to hold her as she fights to go after him" we're practically nose to nose now, Sam has been pushed out from between us and I poke a finger to Julian's chest "and you're not the one who has to be here when this is all over, so don't tell me what my daughter wants, don't you dare come into my home and tell me that I hear only what I want to hear because none of this is what I want, _none of it_"

I stop, my chest rising up and down as I struggle to control myself.

Julian keeps looking at me, his eyes darting side to side and then he says simply "I'm sorry"

Those words mean nothing to mean, absolutely nothing and still they soften me. I step back. My emotions are still all over the place so much so I don't watch as Julian leaves, though the second the door shuts Sam is in front of me, "you okay?" she whispers and with my eyes shut she sounds exactly like she did all those years ago.

I rub my closed eyes, "not really. I just want to go be with my wife and son who need me" and when I open my eyes Sam is looking at me with her sympathetic brown gaze.

"If it helps all I want to do at the moment is get home to my daughter but I think first we need to talk about _your _daughter"

_Maybe because that's not what you want to hear, how much clearer does the kid need to be before Brooke and you realise she is serious. Abby doesn't want to do it anymore, that is the truth… _Julian's words repeat in my head. I feel pulled in so many directions, nothing makes sense anymore then again the world stopped making sense a long time ago.

…

By the time I make it to the hospital it is nearly eight, though I walk through its clinical hallways I am far from patient, my steps are hasty and my eyes stay forward. I lose count of how many people I walk by who I know. People who know my story and why I must be here and their eyes follow me as I go, it is why I try to not look at them because I know I will see their pity and sympathy.

All I want is hurry up and be where I need to be, and then I turn one last corner and I spot Keith's room, quietly I step inside. Brooke is staring at Keith, not blinking, her legs tucked under her and a book hugged to her chest with a finger still marking a page. She sits resting on her side, one arm stretched across to the bed where she holds Keith's pale slender hand.

"Hey" I walk even closer, quietly placing Keith's bag to one side before making my way to Brooke. She shifts, sitting up more and though she looks at me her hands don't move, Brooke sends me a small smile of welcome "hi" her voice cracks.

I bend down to place a kiss on her cheek and Brooke stirs more, dropping the book her free hand now wraps around me holding me close, I get down on my knees so the embrace comes more naturally and wrap both my arms around her, one around her waist and the other up her back so my fingers tangle into the hair at the back of her head, I pull her face into my neck and just hold her.

No words need to be spoken, she doesn't have to tell me what Dr Hyams or Crawshaw said because we both already know what this means. This is it. Keith is hurtling straight into end-stage kidney failure.

They tell you cancer and that is scary enough but you think okay we can beat this and the word remission is like heaven on earth, you don't consider the other ramifications to the disease and treatment. The sick and twisted knowledge that Keith is cancer 'free' and still it's managed to get the best of him, well not yet, my son is a fighter and he hasn't survived thirteen years for nothing.

How long we stay here locked in each others arms I am not sure, time has lost its meaning, though eventually her grip weakens and I pull slightly away, "what now?" I ask.

Brooke manages to stand up in the small gap between us, rising back up I remain by her side as she wipes her dry eyes and turns to Keith. For the first time since I have arrived she lets go of our son, turning her back to him as if she doesn't want him to hear or see her words.

My wife has always been pale but the pallor of her skin tonight is unnatural, shadows under her red eyes speak of exhaustion and I want to just pick her up and take her home. Brooke folds her arms around herself and fusses with her hair and I know she is trying to hold off the inevitable still it's not long before her voice comes in a low timbre "they don't think Keith is strong enough for surgery"

"What does that mean?"

Brooke looks at me her eyes so big, her tongue comes out to lick her dry lips and I follow the movement but my mind is racing, my ears are ringing, when Brooke speaks again I barely hear her "it means that if he gets the transplant it has to happen _soon_, this is it Lucas, it's over. There's nothing we can do, if Abby wins the case that's it"

"But there's still a chance of finding a match on the donor register" Taking the hits and moving forward is how we've survived all these years, if we hadn't looked for new approaches Keith would never have made it to his fifth birthday let alone his fifteenth, yet the dire look Brooke sends me even before I finished my sentence told me that she'd already spoken them.

I grab Brooke by the shoulders, "There's still a chance, they could find a match or… or…"

_I know it must be hard but I can't afford to get distracted, I have to focus on Abby… from what I've seen she's unravelling at the seams… I think you're right she doesn't know what she wants but others telling her isn't going to help Abby, it's going to do the exact opposite_… Sam's words come back to me in pieces and the option of Abby coming to the rescue fades further and further away.

"Or what Lucas?"

My hands fall away.

I feel tugged in a million directions and for the first time I realise it must be a ten times worse for my daughter.

"I don't know" I mumble hopelessly.

Brooke turns back around and I move to her side and watch her features soften as she looks down at a sleepy Keith, "I'm scared" she whispers and I grip her hand and kiss her cheek again and say the only thing I can, "I'm scared too".

…

Two hours hasn't changed much, Brooke and I haven't talked much, the doctor had returned and gone over the latest update with me there and after that we changed the subject to my trip to New York before we lapsed into silence. My body aches and sitting in the chair with Brooke curled in my lap makes sleep impossible and whenever I think I might dose off Brooke will say something waking me back up.

A loud yawn comes from her, "come on, Pretty Girl, let me take you home" but she shakes her head against me, "you can't do anything here and you need to get some sleep"

"I don't think I could"

"Well you could at least _try_" I say and Brooke sighs, I lift her face up and force her to turn her head and look at me "we can't do anything here and we're going to be no good tomorrow if we sit in this chair all night long"

"Don't give me that look, Broody"

"What look?"

"You know what look-" she sighs again "-if I don't agree I'm not going to hear the end of it, am I?" and she even rolls her eyes.

"I will carry you out over my shoulder if I have to"

"Fine" she mumbles, clearly not happy but Brooke just snuggles deeper and then turns back to look at the bed "just let me watch him for ten more minutes" she adds and I nod knowing I won't be able to change her mind that much.

So I watch too.

…

When I turn the engine off in our driveway and look up at the house that same sense of relief sweeps through me, thoughts of being in my own room make my tired eyes close even more. Next to me Brooke looks at the house however the expression on her face is far from relief, stark fear is etched on every one of her features.

I hop out of the car and jog to her side before pulling open her door, "you okay?"

It's a long moment before she rips her eyes away from the house and looks at me, "of course"

"You coming?" I press further and hold out my hand, Brooke takes it but again there's a pause before she takes action and slides her feet to the ground. It's not until I open the door that she steps back and shakes her head "I can't do it"

I turn back to her in shock, "can't do what?"

"I can't go in there and act like its normal. I should go back to Keith" and before I even realise what she is doing Brooke is walking back to the car. By the time I reach her Brooke is almost to the car, I grab her arm and pull her back "go inside Brooke!"

"I can't"

"Why the hell not!" I scream tightening my grip on her wrist as she struggles to get away.

"Because I don't want to see her, okay!" she screams, tears beginning to fall and I am taken aback by her words, "I can't look at her right now, is that what you want to hear? That I am scared to look at my daughter because I don't know how I'll feel"

"Well you have to" and I force Brooke back to the open door, she only half struggles and as soon as we're inside she rips her hand away and storms straight to our bedroom.

When I walk through our bedroom door Brooke is pacing back and forth, "I don't know what to do, Lucas, after today I am just _so _confused. I had to listen to her scream she hated him and wanted him to die and now he's in hospital and…" she stops eyes pleading with me.

"Brooke, what happened today?" I ask and the other knowledge that Sam had shared comes back to me. It's not like Abby to fight with anyone especially Keith, and it's definitely not like her to skip school.

"I don't know, I don't know anything anymore!" and as she walks by me I grab her and pull her into my chest, her tears falling even more.

We're slowly coming down and as her sobs start to fade I lead us to the bed and sit down, stroking her hair I bring Abby up again "maybe it will be best if I take Abby for a little while" the suggestion rolls off my tongue with little thought, when Brooke pulls herself away and slides off my lap. Her hurt expression sends long ago guilt back to the surface, reminding me of a different fight and a different time.

"What do you mean _take her_?"

"I just… _you _said you couldn't look at her and with the fighting and the – I'm just trying to do what's best here, it's not good for Abby to be in this atmosphere or to be missing school" I grab quickly at my defence but I see the words slash at Brooke as if I had pulled a gun to her and pulled the trigger with each statement.

She moves further away out of my reach, "I'm not good for her, is that what you're saying?"

"No Brooke I would never, ever-"

"I was hurt and scared I didn't mean for you to _take _my daughter from me" she stands up, her eyes going wild.

"Pretty Girl please-" I stand up too and reach for her back she hits my hand away and cuts in "DON'T PRETTY GIRL ME!"

"What do you want me to do then? Am I just meant to pretend that none of this is happening, that Abby isn't trying to – I don't know – rip herself away; from what we want, from our home. Do you want me to go back to the hospital and sit there not sleeping or eating, what Brooke? What exactly am I meant to do because whatever you're doing sure as hell isn't helping!"

"So you automatically think about leaving and taking Abby, news flash Lucas this is one daughter you _can't _take from me and like hell am I going to just sit back and watch you" she flings at me and I can tell I've snapped something and I know exactly what wrong button I pushed.

First there was Angie and then Sam, both foster children who Brooke lost to their biological parents. After what happened with Sawyer the importance of blood became that much more important, not in how my wife loved others but how close she allowed herself to get just in case that love was thrown back in her face, she placed boundaries and rules on herself. I've watched the cost it has had on our family and know I have no one to blame but myself.

She storms across the room and pulls open the closet dragging out her suitcase she flings it onto the bed and zips it open, "what are you doing?" I ask nervous, unable to move as I watch the train wreck. Brooke doesn't look at me once as she starts throwing clothes inside the case, "what it looks like, if anyone is going anywhere with Abby it is me, you can stay here and what was it _not sleep and end at the hospital _and _do nothing" _she shoots a cold stare over her shoulder before turning back and continuing her packing.

"This is not what I meant" I shoot forward and start throwing her clothes back, being far from neat, she follows me the third time and garbs hold of the articles in my hand trying to wrestle them from my grip, face to face we stare daggers at each other, "stop this!" I yell.

Brooke rips her hands away taking the clothes with her "no, you or me it's the same thing if it gets Abby away from here, and look on the bright side Luke, you get what you always wanted" she throws some more into her case and zips it back up, snapping around her voice is all too calm hiding the storm that has started inside her "right? You always wanted more of a say, well have it, _you _can deal with Keith and the doctors and Sawyer and her mess because god knows I'm not her mother"

"I NEVER SAID THAT!"

Her shoulders sag and her eyes glaze over, she just looks at me defeated "yes you did" then gripping the handle of her case she starts walking away. Going after her is instinctive.

"And it was a mistake, one I wish every single day I could take back"

Brooke keeps walking, "and yet you still have the nerve to do the same thing all over again except this time I don't have to let you"

"STOP IT!" a louder scream breaks through and in front of us Abby steps out of her room "STOP FIGHTING!" she screams only slightly louder. Brooke and I both freeze and though I can't see my wife's face I do notice how she lets go of her case.

Dressed in short green boxer shorts and a white tank top Abby stands there looking not one day over her twelve years, "please just stop fighting" she pleads and then she looks to me "I don't wanna go anywhere, I want to stay here with both of you"

"Oh baby girl you don't have to go anywhere" and as soon as I say it Abby is running forward, I'm about to stretch out my arms for her when she collides with Brooke and wraps her skinny arms around her mothers waist.

"Please, Momma, please, don't go"

From her stony pose Brooke suddenly breaks down, her arms wrapping around Abby she lowers herself to our daughter's height and holds on for dear life, "shhh, we're staying right here, okay, nobody is going anywhere, shhh"

Then Brooke turns her head as she rests it above Abby's, she opens one eye and looks directly at me before letting go of Abby with one arm and gesturing behind her she beckons me forward. I don't need a second invitation; before I know it my arms are wrapped around the both of them.

For a long time we stay there until all our tears are dry, then I pick Abby up and carry her to her bed where Brooke and I tuck her in, "I just want it all to stop" Abby whispers half asleep, and I finish tucking her in as Brooke strokes our baby girls hair.

With one of us on either side of her our eyes meet, I look at Brooke an hope she knows just how much I love her, "I never meant to hurt you, I was just thinking about Abby but I'm sorry, more sorry than you'll ever know" my words are quiet as not to wake Abby.

"I know" Brooke whispers back, regret in her eyes "I overreacted, I just couldn't separate the past from the present, can we just forget this ever happened, go to bed and wake up to a new day where I didn't go crazy and pull a Psycho Derek"

"If you can promise me you will actually try to sleep and we can talk about everything tomorrow, there are things you need to know"

She gets up from the bed and holds her hand out to me, shadows still in her eyes but she smiles just the slightest and her dimples crease her cheek and then she says "you have yourself a deal" and I take her hand and let her pull me up.

Hand in hand we walk back to our room and it's just as we're going in side movement in the hallway catches my eye, I pause in the doorway and Brooke turns back to me "Lucas, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just go to bed and I'll be there in a second"

"Okay, but don't take too long"

With a nod I leave our room and quickly walk down the hallway and to the top of the stairs, it's then that I see Sawyer moving below. Moving quicker I jog down the stairs, "Sawyer" I say her name and she stops at the front door.

I don't think I have ever seen this particular expression on my oldest daughters face, I haven't seen her cry in so long that the tears streaming down her face are a complete shock.

"Is it true?"

My mouth opens but no sound comes out and I watch Sawyer's face crumple even more, "Dad?" she asks again and every word spoken between Brooke and I comes back to me.

She backs closer to the door, "all these years I thought she didn't want me"

"I never knew you thought that"

"What was I meant to think? _Three months _Dad and not one single word, three god damn months and I hated her for that" bitterness edges her voice, her hand grips the door behind her and she opens it "and now I hate you"

"Sawyer" I go after her but she's so fast, her young legs pumping as she runs to her room above the garage, "Sawyer, please, let me explain, if I had known you felt like that we would have done everything-"

"Shut up, just shut the fuck up!" she screams still running and by the time I catch up she's inside her room and my hands end up banging a closed door as locks click into place.

"Sawyer, princess, let's talk about this"

"NO!" she screams through the door, "just leave me alone"

I rest my head against the door and let out a deep breath, talking more gently I try to appeal to Sawyer again "how many times I wished I could take it all back but I can't, your mother forgave me I only hope in time you can too"

She doesn't answer but I know she hears me, kissing two fingers I place them to the door before walking back down the stairs.

Once inside I make sure the house is secure and then I return to the bedroom I share with Brooke, when I see her laying there a quiet sob gets stuck in my throat. On such a dark night one miracle is granted to me, I lie on the bed next to my wife and watch her peaceful slumber hoping than she gets a few hours of rest. Tonight sleep won't find me.

-x-

_I look at you and see a friend  
I hope that's what you wanna be  
Are we back now where  
it all began?  
Have you finally forgiven me? _

_You gathered my dreams in_  
_When they all blew away_  
_And then tricked them_  
_back into me_  
_You saved me I was_  
_almost dead_

_I don't wanna hurt you_  
_I don't wanna make you sway_  
_Like I know I've done before_  
_I will not do it anymore_  
_I've always been a dreamer_  
_I've had my head among_  
_the clouds_  
_Now that I'm coming down_  
_Won't you be my solid ground?_

_I don't wanna hurt you_  
_Like I know I've done before_  
_I will not do it anymore..._

_I don't wanna hurt you_  
_I don't wanna make you sway_  
_Like I know I've done before_  
_I will not do it anymore_  
_I've always been a dreamer_  
_I've had my head among_  
_the clouds_  
_Now that I'm coming down_  
_Won't you be my solid ground?_

- Sway, _The Perishers_

***Sigh***


	14. Shattered

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or it's characters, or anything else to do with it, nor do I own the rights to Jodi Picoult's 'my sisters keeper'. Now if Mark wants to hand me over OTH I wouldn't complain.**

**Okay so I have totally battled over this chapter, I've been rewriting it in my head for months but actually getting it on paper was harder than I expected and it had no chance living up to the potential it had in my mind. But I think I've covered what I want to. So go back into the past for another glimpse. And as always, enjoy.**

_Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding_  
_Fall into your sunlight_  
_The future's open wide, beyond believing_  
_To know why hope dies_

_Losing what was found, a world so hollow_  
_Suspended in a compromise_  
_The silence of this sound is soon to follow_  
_Somehow, sundown_

_And finding answers_  
_Is forgetting all of the questions we called home_  
_Passing the graves of the unknown._

-x-

Chapter Fourteen

_*Brooke*_

…_Seven years ago…_

I feel stiff and empty, my mind still trying to get around everything that has happened. I feel horrible, I feel like a failure, and right now I wish I could just stop feeling all together.

Haley watches me carefully, I stare at the window with my blank face as she sits by me stroking my hair and talking.

She sniffles and guilt starts to build up more, her sadness is too much that I can't even meet her eye. How can I when the one thing I don't feel is sad, a part of me is relieved which is why I feel so horrible.

I've never felt a worse mother than I do now, after years of fighting for my children I was relieved when the doctor confirmed my miscarriage. She had told me as gently as possible, explaining how I was not at fault that in most cases a spontaneous abortion is due to a chromosomal abnormality - simply the child wasn't meant to be. Not meant to be, that was for sure. I never wanted another baby, I had been hoping that the pregnancy was a mistake and the issue would just go away.

I guess I got what I wished for.

I feel like a fraud with all the sympathy everyone is giving me, Haley reassures me it isn't my fault and the sob that escapes is from guilt and shame not grief.

"Oh, Brooke" she wraps an arm around me; I wriggle out from under her.

"Please don't" I whisper, and I feel her move away.

In the distance I can hear the noises of the hospital and the sound of pounding feet, I know in my gut and my heart my husband is about to walk down the hall and into my room.

A few seconds later someone stops in the door, breathing rough and the energy in the room changes "_Brooke_" he says my name, "Pretty Girl, I am so sorry" he adds on and my eyes are shut even tighter by the time he slides onto the bed and wraps his arms around me pulling me into his body.

He talks to me but I don't listen so he eventually goes silent, a wait a few more minutes before talking "I want to go home" is all I say.

"Uh-" I feel him shift and I know he must be looking to Haley. Whatever she said or did Lucas is more sure when he addresses me again "okay, let's see about getting you home"

I just want out of this place; my patience with hospitals at the moment is being tested. I just want to go home.

…

Lucas is worried about me, he keeps looking at me with those brooding eyes and the sadness that stares at me through those beautiful blue eyes is eating away at me. He is upset but he doesn't want me to know so he puts on a brave face and instead looks after me, the first night I heard him crying in the bathroom, the second it was in his sleep, and by the third I am contemplating moving into the spare room.

He wants me to talk about it but I am afraid of telling him the truth, I am afraid of seeing the look on his face when he realises that the grief he is going through isn't what I am experiencing. So I remain silent and go on with my life.

Karen is around more to help me out, so when Lucas isn't here watching me she is, and as much as I appreciate the thought it really isn't necessary because I am not going to break and I don't need help looking after my children. If it wasn't for the distraction they give me I don't know how I would survive it, I can ignore the ache in my body and focus on getting Keith better, I can ignore the looks of sympathy and focus on the joy in Abby's innocent eyes, and I always have Sawyer here to help me, with the other children or just someone to talk to.

On the fourth night I come downstairs and hear Lucas talking to Karen in the kitchen, when I refused to talk about it he must have turned to his mother and I stand hidden in shadows listening to him get out his own guilt.

He blames himself.

Lucas wonders if the stress from everything caused me to lose our baby, it is so strange to hear him say that because I never really saw it as losing a baby, I was so detached from the life inside me that wasn't meant to be. Karen reassures Lucas that he couldn't have stopped it; we hadn't even known I was pregnant and these things happen. Lucas shoots back with how much we were fighting before it happened.

We haven't fought much since then, he treats me like fragile glass as if I could break at any moment. When the reason behind all the fights is brought up he just nods and agrees with me, no longer challenging my decision. I have been grateful though now I realise Lucas' agreement to Keith's treatment is not due to a change of mind but because he blames himself and the fights for the miscarriage.

When I turn away and go back to bed I curl up in a ball and more guilt is piled on top of the rest.

…

The next day I say with no uncertain terms that I am going out _alone_ and I am picking Sawyer and Abby up from school, Lucas isn't home yet and Karen protest saying she can do it. I ask her instead to watch Keith and she reluctantly agrees, worried eyes following me as I leave the house.

I pick Abby up first and my little girl runs into my arms, "Momma!"

"Hey sweetie pie, what did you learn today?"

Our hands swinging together as we walk to the car Abby tells me every detail of her day at school, she starts pointing out all the different shapes around us and I smile proudly down at her.

I am a _good _mother, I might have doubted that I recent times but I have raised three happy, bright children who are loved and find joy even with all our family is going through. Smiling I tell myself again, _I am a good mother_.

The drive to Sawyer's school is quick and I park under the tree I usually do, it is a few minutes before I spot her blonde head walking from the school surrounded by friends. Grinning I beep the horn and she looks up, a smile appears on her face and Sawyer speaks to her friends for a second before leaving them to run to the car, "hey, what are you doing here?" Sawyer leans through the window.

"Picking you up or I am trying to"

"Momma's feeling better" Abby pipes in and Sawyer frowns at me, eyes so much like her fathers take in my appearance and she even squints. I roll my eyes, "I'm fine, _really_"

"You look kinda pale"

"What's new, come on, hop in and you can lecture me at home" and to emphasise my point I start the car, she bites her lip and looks back to her friends and hen her eyes meet mine again there's the slightest bit of hesitance, "actually – um – I was planning on walking home with Liz and Sharni"

"Oh, that's okay then"

Her eyes light up and her smile appears nervous "we're going to practice for the cheerleading tryouts"

"Momma was a cheerleader" Abby smiles in the back and then she adds on proudly "she was the bestest and most beautifulest cheerleader in the whole _world_"

"Yeah, so I've heard" Sawyer chuckles and lets go of her hold on the windowsill, stepping back she tugs her backpack on more over her shoulder and I can't help but be amazed at how big our little girl is getting, all skinny arms and legs.

"I am so proud of you"

She rolls her eyes and for a brief moment there's that flash of Peyton and I can't help but smile even more, the reluctant cheerleader, that's our girl.

"Right, anyway, I have to go, so see ya at home" and she starts to walk away.

"Sawyer, wait!" I call out and she turns back around, "I love you"

"I love you too, Mom" and then with a last wave she runs back to her friends.

Turning onto the road I talk to Abby and myself, "okay, girly, I could go a double scoop of chocolate ice cream".

…

Have you ever felt your whole mood shift in an instant, for no better reason than you take a step and suddenly the atmosphere changes, and you just know something is _different_?

I had happily helped Abby out of her car seat, walked hand in hand with her to the door and pushed it open, and the moment I stepped inside my body chilled.

As if I knew, just knew, I was about to face something I didn't want to.

"Honey, why don't you go play out the back for a while" I suggest to Abby, ushering her forward as I close the front door.

My daughter disappears in a run with a giggle, the sound almost reassuring me, then I continue walking through the house, "Karen?"

There is no answer.

Walking into the living room I spot Keith asleep on the couch, it's been nearly two months since we found out the cancer was back. Two months of trying to find a way to keep fighting it, a way to hold it back again. Lucas wants to keep to the old treatment and Edward agrees with him, it was Candice who suggested the new experimental treatment. It's a risk, one I am willing to take and one Lucas isn't.

The first thing I do is touch his cheek, then forehead, trying to gather some idea of his temperature.

"He's fine" Lucas whisper reaches my ear and I look up to find my husband standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, his eyes are staring at me as if trying to see something. I look down at our son and carefully start picking him up, even at eight he's small enough for me to carry comfortably.

Keith's head rolls onto my shoulder as I stand up straight with him in my arms, then suddenly Lucas is in front of me "you shouldn't be carrying him" and he tries to take Keith out of my arms.

"I'm fine"

"I wish you would stop saying that" he hisses out as I walk by him and start heading towards the stairs which will lead me to Keith's room.

Lucas follows.

Taking my time tucking Keith in I am reluctant to turn back to Lucas, eventually I have to.

Lifting my chin higher I say to him "I am not going to break" though my voice is quiet so not to wake Keith.

When I leave the room I shut the door and straight away Lucas reaches for my hand, "can we please talk about it, I know you don't want to but it has been four days and you keep telling me you're fine but I don't believe it, I can't believe it, we lost a baby, Brooke, we're allowed to not be fine" though his voice is soft his words ring loudly inside my mind.

For a moment I can't take my eyes away from his intense gaze, then he blinks and I flinch as I look down "there is nothing to say" I reply and try to walk away. Instead I end up leading Lucas to our room and his hand never leaves mine until we're standing in the familiar room.

Silently Lucas leads me to the bed and forces me to sit, then he kneels in front of me and takes both my hands, our eyes lock again and apprehension starts building inside me.

"We didn't plan it, I know the timings wrong and with everything else going on another responsibility is the last thing I thought we needed, but I know we would have loved our child if we had gotten a chance, I know how much it hurts to lose someone we didn't even know about until it was too late… whatever you're feeling, I feel it too-" and he stops and looks down at ours hands because I started to pull mine out of his.

I _really _don't want to hear about this.

He tightens his grip and continues, "We always wanted a big family, after Keith all we talked about was adopting children who needed families, and then after… everything and after Abby we put that dream aside. What I am trying to say is I forgot how much we wanted all that until the other day-"

That's when the tears start, as our past flashes before me, the time of joy before the word cancer ever entered our lives, the time when we had enough dreams to last the rest of our lives.

Lucas' words blur together until his last line reaches through the fog of my mind.

"- when ever you're ready, tomorrow, next year, after it all settles down, _whenever, _I want you to know that I will be ready too. It's not too late to try again"

"NO!" the sharp protest escapes from me and Lucas briefly looks shocked and his hold loosens giving me the opportunity to snatch my hands out from under his.

Whispering I add on painfully "the last thing I want is another baby, not now, not ever"

"I know losing the baby hurt-" he begins and I cut in standing up.

"You know _nothing_" I let out harshly and my movement forces Lucas to fall back, he quickly stands up but before he can say any more of his words I continue, my rage and guilt and everything else from the last two weeks comes to the surface "l was relieved Lucas, I was _relieved _when the pregnancy ended and a part of me hates myself for that but the other part of me… there's a part that is just thankful. I didn't _want _this baby-" for a moment I pause because I can't think of it as a baby "- from the moment I found out I was pregnant all I wanted was it to go away"

His look of hurt confusion vanishes in a blink, his face twists "you knew?"

My reckless train of thought ends, I am back in reality, shocked at what I had said, "wh-uh-um-"

"You said you knew you were pregnant, how long?"

He stands there waiting for my answer and out of all the things I said that was the last thing I expected him to react to, I had thought he would look at me as if I was a monster but he doesn't.

"How long?" he asks again.

"Two weeks"

Shoulders slump as he looks at me, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want it to be true"

"_So you just said nothing_" he screams, his face begins to go red "that was my child too, I had a right to know!"

"I would have told you" I shout back "I just didn't know how, I needed time"

"Time to what?-" his body vibrates with emotion and his voice hits me like a bullet "-to figure it all out without me, to conveniently get rid of the _problem _before I had to know"

I don't even realise I have lifted my hand until after I've slapped him and my stinging palm leaves his now red cheek.

My hand goes to my mouth as I gasp.

He clenches his jaw, not batting an eyelash "would you have?"

The answer comes out against my control, honest and raw "I don't know"

And then it comes, the look I had been dreading and he speaks in disbelieve "I don't know you" and turns away from me.

"Please Lucas, I feel bad enough as it is, don't you think I hate myself? I do but I can't change how I feel-" I try to turn him and finally he gives in and we're facing each other again "- I am drowning Luke, _we're _drowning. I have a company to run, we both have deadlines, and between that and Keith and the hospital, not to mention the girls, _how_ – where does another baby fit?"

"We could have done it; together we would have found a way"

Together. I feel like laughing. "_I _couldn't, I am barely keeping my head above water as it is"

"Because you never let anyone help you!" he screams once again after my comment, his hands waving in the air, then he straightens and speaks more calmly but there is still that rage and sadness in his tone like he's reached his edge "wake up Brooke, you are not the only one going through this, we all are, I am. You act like you're alone in this-" he stops and takes a breath but then starts up again "- you don't even see it when you cut us out and then you treat me as if I am nothing, whether it's Keith or the pregnancy, I deserve a say too but you are always pushing me away"

"I don't mean to"

"Then why do it, why didn't you tell me when you found out about the baby, why won't you listen to me when it comes to Keith and why won't you ever talk to me about what you're feeling!"

I close my eyes. There is no answer that I can give, I have no idea why. I guess I always had to do everything for myself and now letting go of that independence is hard, if I rely on other people and they fall through… well, I learnt the hard way not to trust other people.

"You wear the weight of the world on your shoulders and I get that you have trouble trusting people but you don't have to do it all yourself, I'm here Brooke, _I am here_"

"I know" I say breaking down in tears, "I know that Lucas"

"I don't think you do"

My mouth opens and then it closes.

What do I say to my husband when he thinks I am pushing away when and I know its true, but he's wrong, I do know he's here and it is what gets me through the day. I need him, more than I let on, I just don't know how to show it.

No words come forth; I am speechless, frozen, as Lucas starts to walk towards our closet and pulls out the case he uses when he goes on trips. My mouth falls open again, "wh-what- where are you going?"

Lucas doesn't meet my eye as he starts to pack and my hands remain lifeless by my side as I fight the urge to rip the clothes out of his hands and through them back.

"Lucas" I say his name again, my voice begging for him not to do this.

Still not meeting my eye my husband replies, "I just need… I think it's best if we take some time apart to figure out what we want" and as he finishes he steps away from the closed case and finally looks at me.

"And what do you want Lucas?" an edge of bitterness in the question.

"I want everything you want the difference is that I want it with _you_" and he grabs the handle and starts to walk out our room.

"Yet you're leaving" I say quietly with my back turned to him, crossing my arms in an attempt to protect myself from what is about to happen but Lucas hears me, I feel him staring at me from the door.

"I know what I want Brooke but what about you? When you decide that you don't want to carry it all yourself come find me, until then yes I am leaving because all I see is you pushing me away"

My bottom lip disappears as I close my eyes again, and I say nothing and I do nothing as his footsteps start down the hall, nothing but feel the tears fall down my cheek.

It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest.

I wait and then I hear him stop, instead of going down the stairs a door is opened.

It takes me a few more seconds before I recognise what room Lucas has walked into and then I run out of mine and head straight to Sawyer's, grabbing the doorsill I push myself inside.

"What are you doing?" I ask loudly although I already know, he's not just leaving he is taking Sawyer with him. Lucas has already managed to pack a bag hastily, I take a step further into the room "you are not taking Sawyer, you want to leave fine but you are not taking my daughter with you"

Expressionless Lucas finishes packing and flings the full bag over his shoulder, "she's not your daughter"

"Like hell she isn't Luke and you know that, you can't just take her" I fling back at him but he pushes by me, I run around him and block the doorway.

"You want to know what I know? How about what it feels like not to have control over your children's lives, to be ignored and pushed aside, to feel like you don't matter, hell Brooke you spend so much time trying to save Keith you don't even realise you lost another child"

Please, Lucas, please. My eyes beg for him to stop.

"I spent all week grieving for our baby and the pain is unbearable, it eats away at me Brooke, I look at our children and I wonder what he would have looked like, I look at you and I picture your body full and round, and that's never going to happen. _We lost a baby_, a flesh and blood human being who was a part of us, do you get that?" his face tightens.

Though my mouth opens I don't say anything and he looks into my eyes and he knows, he knows that what he feels I don't, with a shake of the head Lucas moves me out of his way and walks back into the hallway.

And the sound I expected from before, Lucas' footsteps making their way down the stairs, begins, each step reverberating inside my head.

All we do is fight, this time apart will help us, I tell myself that, I tell myself I don't need him and I am fine on my own, and I can do it. I can.

Slowly I turn around and I follow him, anger building inside me. He is the one leaving _me_, how dare he try to make me feel like it is my fault as he walks away. Thank god I don't need him because if I did I would be pretty screwed now!

"If you walk out that door don't come back" I shout after him.

Lucas turns back to look at me, "is that your way of asking me to stay?"

I take the few last steps to the landing and it's on the tip of my tongue to say those words but I'm upset and angry and confused. There is something inside me physically stopping me from saying I don't want him to go, telling me to deny that I do in fact need him.

Instead I threaten him again "if you go and take Sawyer I will never forgive you"

"That's alright Brooke because at the moment I'm not sure that I can forgive you"

He's really going to go, I'm not sure I believed it until now.

In the silence the front door opens and Sawyer walks in giggling, she stops the moment she sees us and cautiously looks between us, "um, am I interrupting something – Dad why do you have my bag?" her eyes zoom in on her father.

Lucas continues to stare at me, his cold blue eyes not changing direction as he replies "we're going"

"Going where?" Sawyer's voice shakes, I break the stare off with Lucas and look at our daughter, "Mom what's going on?"

Placing the bags by the door Lucas is the one who answers, facing Sawyer her puts a hand on her shoulder "Brooke and I have been talking-"

"Fighting you mean" Sawyer cuts in and knocks Lucas' hand from her as she steps back.

Lucas continues as if Sawyer hadn't said anything "- and we think it'll be best if we spent some time apart"

"What! But… but… you stopped fighting, this week has been good" she looks to me for reassurance and I gulp in the sob that threatens to fall.

We had decided not to tell the kids about the miscarriage and now Lucas' behaviour the last week and the lack of the fights has given Sawyer the impression things had worked out for us and I hadn't even known she was so aware of the arguments.

"Mom?"

I'm too afraid to answer her.

"I'm going to go say goodbye to Abby" Lucas says and he shoots us a look which clearly states he thinks we should do the same, which he follows with a quiet "you should do the same"

As Lucas heads to the back I watch Sawyer's eyes move to the packed bags, they settle on the big one of hers and I see the comprehension hit her, "oh" the sound comes out in a long quiet sigh of shock.

"Well this sucks" she drawls after a moment but there are tears in her eyes when she looks up at me, "so are you gonna tell him not to go?"

"It's not that easy"

"Bull" and she kicks the closest thing to her which happens to be the front door.

When she looks up from the bags her eyes are wild, "well I'm not going-"

"Sawyer" I interrupt as much as it pains me too, her attention zooms in on me and I force myself to look slightly to her side because looking at her is breaking my heart, I see my daughter, I see my husband staring at me through her, and it hurts too much to know I am losing them and there is nothing I can do.

"I'M NOT"

"You have to" I whisper, "He's your father" I add on the reason why I am standing here by the stairs instead of running to her and pulling her to my chest refusing to let her go.

I can feel her eyes on me, scanning me, the seconds turn to minutes and then she counters back "but you're my mom"

My heart flips over inside my chest and I am forced to mask the emotion that is spinning crazily inside me, slipping a blank expression on my face I finally meet her eyes.

The natural words to deny it won't come to my lips, I may not have given birth to this beautiful girl but she is just as much my daughter as Abby and the love I have for her refuses to call her anything but. So I say nothing.

Her eyes are darting from side to side, she is trying to grasp onto something and then Lucas walks back in with Abby wrapped around his chest.

She is crying softly as Lucas kisses the top of her head and whispers unheard words to her, he steps closer and instinctively I reach for my youngest. Abby fights the separation and briefly catching Lucas' gaze I know its equally as hard for him but the moment he sees me looking at him he hardens his expression and lets go of Abby completely.

Like a switch has been turned Abby instead buries her crying face into my shoulder and wraps herself around me, I hold on tightly to the one certainty I have in life. The one thing that feels like it can't be taken from me.

"Say bye to daddy" I instruct her as Lucas picks up the luggage and moves closer to the front door, I follow slowly behind and at my word Lucas turns back.

"Daddy's going to miss you baby girl"

Abby digs herself deeper into me but mumbles a teary "_bye Daddy_"

Lucas and I don't look at each other, we don't say anything, I move my attention to Sawyer willing myself to be brave "I'm here, whenever you need me, 'kay?" and fighting the urge to embrace Sawyer I clutch Abby tighter to me.

With wet eyes Sawyer shakes her head "don't make me go" she begs quietly and looks from her father to me.

"Come on Sawyer" Lucas clenches his jaw and grabs Sawyer's shoulder gently, she looks up at him and the break in eye contact give me a chance to turn around and walk back towards the stairs. I quickly wipe the tears away because I won't let them see me cry, I won't let Lucas know what he is doing to me.

What I have done to him.

Faking a resolve I don't have I turn back, gripping a still hysterical Abby even tighter.

My face is blank as Lucas opens the door, it remains that way when he says clearly "I hope you figure out what you want" and I fight to keep it the same as he drags Sawyer out of the house.

I stand here and watch, unable to move, unable to speak and unable to take it all back.

And then the wind catches the door and rips it from Lucas' hand before he has the chance to close it, the heavy oak slams shut with a bang and I wince.

It is suddenly eerily quiet, and then my shoulders shake and everything I held in comes pouring out.

Abby pulls herself away from me and touches my damp cheek "don't cwy Momma" but the action just makes me cry even harder.

I look at her, I look at my daughter and I see traces of the people I love in her features, I see traces of myself mixed in with them, and for a moment I think of the baby I lost, and I wonder what he would have looked like.

The emptiness inside me grows, it engulfs me with the hard realisation of _everything _I have lost, until I can no longer stand sop I fall to the ground and cry for it all.

And as I sit in my much emptier house - with my empty body - small arms wrap comfortingly around me, patting my back as they hold onto me.

"Let's not cwy, Momma" is whispered between tears.

-x-

_As reason clouds my eyes, with splendour fading_  
_Illusions of the sunlight_  
_And a reflection of a lie will keep me waiting_  
_With love gone, for so long_

_And this day's ending_  
_Is the proof of time killing a__ll the faith I know_  
_Knowing that faith is all I hold_

_And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand_  
_Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love, without, love gone wrong, __lifeless words carry on_  
_But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning_  
_Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart_  
_Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent_  
_All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain_  
_All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over_  
_There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones_  
_To the place we belong, and his love will conquer all._

_And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand_  
_Why my heart is so broken, rejecting your love, without, love gone wrong, __lifeless words carry on_  
_But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning_  
_Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart_  
_Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent_  
_All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain_  
_All is lost, hope remains, and this war's not over_  
_There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones_  
_To the place we belong, and his love will conquer all._

_Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding_  
_Fall into your sunlight_

- Shattered,_ Trading Yesterday_

**Angsty, I know, but I hope both sides are seen, I guess that's why I struggled with this one, because neither Brooke or Lucas are innocent, Brooke pushes Lucas until he stubbornly in his pain pushed back and his actions just kept unravelling, and they both kept pushing until one gives in but it leaves a mark on their marriage and them both with insecurities, with Lucas afraid to push again and a strained bond between Brooke and Sawyer.**

**Later, Mickei B.**


	15. Closer

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or it's characters, or anything else to do with it, nor do I own the rights to Jodi Picoult's 'my sisters keeper'. Now if Mark wants to hand me over OTH I wouldn't complain.**

**Ok I know this is a quick update but u can thank my sister for that, she pissed me off so much I locked myself in my room and turned the music on as loud as it goes and distracted my hands with writing so I didn't go kill selfish whore little sisters. But considering the pissed off mood I am currently in and the tone of the last few chapters this one is surprisingly more 'happy' *wink wink* anyway enjoy the rare gift of a quick update. I hope you enjoy.**

_You let me violate you  
You let me desecrate you  
You let me penetrate you  
You let me complicate you_

Help me; I broke apart my insides  
Help me; I've got no soul to sell  
Help me; the only thing that works for me  
Help me get away from myself

_I wanna fuck you like an animal  
I wanna feel you from the inside  
I wanna fuck you like an animal  
My whole existence is flawed__  
_

-x-_  
_

Chapter Fifteen

_*Julian*_

The past – my past – isn't something I like to think about often, there isn't much worth remembering. My personal life, or lack thereof, has never been exactly exciting. The geek in high school I never quite grew up from the awkward loner who felt inept in social situations, friends are not something I come across easily and I have never had 'homies' or been 'one of the guys'. Work – being successful – has been my main focus most of my adult life and I am lucky enough to find genuine joy in all my career moves which leads to me devoting even more time to it. My office is more a home than my apartment, and as bare as it may be it has a lot more of me in it that the blank space waiting with a bed.

Home. You could call it that though it is far from my home, it's a small series of empty rooms to remind me that I have no one to help occupy it which is why I am now sitting behind my desk at work in my office going over files.

As I flip through my papers I realise that rereading these notes is just my way of avoiding leaving, the truth is I have no real reason to be here.

Sighing I close the file and spin around in my chair, a stack of books gain my attention and once again I walk over and pick up Lucas' book. It had been a gift from an ex girlfriend after I told her 'An Unkindness of Ravens' was one of my favourite books, two weeks later Janine had given me a copy of his latest book. A week later we broke up.

Not because of the book, Janine had decided she wanted to move and was ready to start a new life after her marriage fell through. My relationships tend to have a pattern, looking back over the long series of girls who have entered then exited my life it has become clear I am like a temporary safety net. My heart falls for the broken girls, attracted to them I get the need to save them, to fix them, unfortunately once they are mended they have the tendency to throw me away because I am no longer needed. Most of the time it is mutual and I walk away with a friend, because lets face it most of the time I never really became more than a good friend.

Somewhere along the way I decided to break the pattern, when I see a broken girl I now walk in the opposite direction. Fixing other peoples problems isn't my job – okay it is my _job_, but fixing broken hearts isn't.

Dropping the book down I grab my jacket and keys and prepare to leave, then at the door I stop and look back at my office and I see something resting on the back of one of my chairs.

Sam's coat.

When I pick it up the soft fabric shocks me, the zing spreads up my arm and I rub the collar between my thumb and finger before folding it over my arm and leaving my office once again. This time I don't stop, I switch the light off and quickly make my way out, it's dark but I don't care about the lack of light.

In my car I place Sam's coat on the passenger's side seat and quickly start the car. I could drop it off at her house tomorrow on the way to work, or during lunch, or maybe I could meet her for coffee or lunch. I don't have her number though.

Maybe I should just stick to dropping it off at her place tomorrow morning and at the thought her address burns in my pants pocket. I don't need to take a second look because I had memorised it earlier after one glance, the number and street going over and over again in my head.

And just like that I find myself turning in the opposite direction of my apartment.

…

I'm not sure why I'm standing outside the small townhouse but the moment I parked the car and saw the light on inside I felt like I had somehow reached my destination and hadn't paused in stepping out and jogging to the front door, the coat itching in my arms.

It's not until I'm actually standing at the door that I question why I am here and not walking through my own door. It is after all late at night and Sam is probably asleep and it's just a coat. But what if tomorrow is cold and she needs it?

Julian, she probably has another coat you idiot.

This could be her favourite though, it looks well worn, and it smells like her. Shaking my head away from the thought I knock on the door.

If no one answers within a minute.. or two… okay I will give her three minutes, then I will turn away and just come back tomorrow.

She's probably asleep.

Then the door opens.

"Julian?" Sam looks at me shocked and a warm smile starts to spread across my face, I can't fight it as I look her over, she's dressed down, her face looking newly washed and pink and her damp hair is pulled in a tight pony. A baggy shirt and sweat pants grace her body which is a far cry away from the teenager she use to be… um, anyway, I smile when I see her bare feet poking out and quickly take my eyes back up to her face.

"Hey"

"Um, hey" she says slowly and then narrows her eyes "what are you doing here?"

Fighting the urge to slap my head I quickly try to remember why I am here, my hands grip the coat and it hits me "oh, you left this… at my office"

"Ah, thanks" Sam takes the coat as I practically throw it at her and she chuckles a little and looks behind her, when she looks back at me she has a different expression on her face, lacking nerves or confusion, her cheery composure helps settle my nerves. Why I am nervous I am not sure but that smile settles something inside me. That is until she says "so, do you want to come in?"

One half of me is going _no, do not do it, go back to your car and drive away as fast as you can _while the other half is jumping up and down in anticipation and practically yelling _YES! Step inside!_

The fighting between my halves stop me from making either move and I'm not entirely sure why they are being so persistent. What is the big deal?

A wrinkle appears above the bridge of Sam's nose, she looks at me and says "if you don't want to…"

"No- No, I uh… that sounds great"

"Okay" she chuckles slightly and steps back to make room for me to walk by her, and as I do so the scent of cinnamon and coffee tickled my nose. The same smell that had lingered on the coat. My gut tightens and apprehension settles in as it hits me that maybe, just maybe, I was nervous about being around Sam not because of her ties to my past but because in the here and now I am having trouble remembering the teenage her and the picture of Sam the _woman _is far too appealing.

I pause and suck in a breath, I can't be here. What am I doing here?

Taking a step back I'm ready to bolt when she quickly walks pass me, "coffee or something a little more hardcore, I know I could use a drink after today" and she walks behind the kitchen counter that separates the combined dining and living room from the kitchen.

Instead of going back I step forward, "do you have any whisky?"

I see the view over the counter and find Sam bent down with her face hidden behind the open fridge door, she laughs and straightens up, turning around she throws a bottle to me and I catch it, "sorry, I hope beer will do"

Truthfully anything cold at the moment will do, I look down at the bottle in my hand and see my second favourite brew "good taste" I can't help but compliment her and Sam shrugs a shoulder and quickly opens her own beer and takes a long swallow.

I watch her and my hand twitches as a drop runs from her lips and slowly makes its way down her throat.

Turning away I quickly unscrew the bottle and happily welcome the cold beer down my suddenly dry throat.

When Sam stops next to me she holds out her bottle, "to old friends" she says and I knock the glass bottles together before quickly walking away and use the excuse of looking around to put distance between us.

"So this is your place?"

"No, I just gave you the address and then broke in hoping you would stop by, I really live-"

"You can stop now" I cut in, "I get it"

"Then yes, this is my place"

"It's… nice, really homey" I add as I take in the warmth of the space. It's colourful, full of shades of reds, creams and browns, and the small burgundy couch with its spiral patterned cushions is calling my name. It is so different to my place.

Sam takes a seat and quickly lifts her legs up, crossing them she places her bare feet onto the wooden coffee table and takes another drink, "that's because it's… _a home_" she whispers as if telling me a classified secret.

I laugh, "Do you have to tease me so much"

"You think this is teasing you, god, Julian, and here I thought you knew me, this is me going easy on you but if you want me to really tease you?" she stops and lifts a brow and smirks a little smirk that though is all too familiar looks completely different on a now thirty-five year old Sam. I lick my lips and tighten the hold of the bottle in my hand, "please don't" I try to laugh but I fail miserably and instead give a nervous gulp. Sam suddenly looks confused, she leans forward and leaves her bottle on a coaster and never takes her dark questioning eyes from me.

We stay like this for a long time, the contact not breaking until the awkwardness and the confusion just fades away, until it's just the two if us and nothing else matters. And we both relax, the emotions inside me settling on a contented happiness as she smiles an easy smile at me. All urges to bolt leave me and I find myself walking around the coffee table and taking a seat next to her.

"So we never really got a chance to catch up today, how are you Sam, what have you gotten up to in the last nineteen years?"

She shrugs and picks up her drink again, "not much, I'm a teacher" and she shrugs again as if it's nothing.

"You teach?" I ask shocked yet proud.

"Well I'm a substitute teacher and it keeps me busy and gives me time to be a guardian ad litem, I enjoy it" she takes another drink and then looks at me in the eye "and what about you, mister lawyer man, that's a little different from making movies"

"I wanted a change" which is an understatement.

After a loud laugh Sam shakes her head at me as if I just said the funniest thing she'd ever heard, "no, buying a new car is a change, completely changing careers and going to law school in your late twenties is… more. You completely dropped the call of Hollywood after producing 'KTR' "

Wiping my forehead I close my eyes, "oh no, don't tell me you saw that?"

"No" Sam chuckles and I look at her not believing her.

"Okay then how did you know-" and before I could finish the sentence she lifts the bottle to her mouth, and just before she touches it with her lips she cuts in "I googled you" and then she gently throws her head back and takes a long swallow, when she is done she avoids my eyes.

Allowing my own voice to become… the term flirtatious doesn't seem right but I find myself teasing Sam right back with the same tone she has been using, "you googled me, huh?"

"Yes, I googled you"

"Find out anything interesting?"

She smirks, "wouldn't you like to know" and I find I have no answer for that.

The air thickens between us, something shifting steadily as we stare at each other, she looks away awkwardly and wiggles further into the corner of her side of the couch, and she tucks her feet under her starts to play with the bottle in her hand.

I cross my legs and then uncross them, my mind is blank, though there are so many things I want to say at the same time I have no idea what to say.

Somehow I have managed to drink every drop of beer in the bottle, with no excuse to be holding the empty object I abandon it to the coffee table and lean back, my arm goes to the back of the couch but when my fingers brush against Sam's hair I quickly move it away and place that hand to my own side.

"So…" but I don't get further than that.

I loosen my collar.

Sam shifts around and my eyes are drawn back to her.

There is just something so wrong about the way I admire the glow of her face in the barely lit room, or notice the way a strand of her hair has escaped her pony and now grazes her collar bone as it falls onto her smooth skin.

"So…" she says this time and I lift my eyes from her exposed neck back to her face.

Quickly I grab for something to say, something to remind me why I can't look at her, "is your husband home?" I ask and allow my eyes to go to the pictures lined up above her fireplace.

I am assuming tall, dark and handsome kissing Sam with the Paris background is Mr Colson.

"There is no husband"

My eyes go back to her in a flash to find Sam wiggling the fingers of her left hand next to her face, her _bare _left hand.

"I assumed, sorry" and my eyes go back to the photos. The room is full of photos of a little girl with bright green eyes and dark hair smiling, that and the Paris photo and Sam's change of last name led me to believe that she was off the market.

I'm not sure about how I feel knowing she isn't married; I'm not sure about the shot of relief that washed throw me when she said there was no husband.

When I look nervously back at her Sam's brow is creased and she is looking at where I was just looking, then her lips part and she meets my eye "I mean there was a husband, a long time ago, Andy, I'm divorced, happily divorced, have been for seven years but you know I never could be bothered changing back to my maiden name, not like Walker had much significance anyway- I'm babbling, I don't babble"

"Don't stop on my account" I chuckle, I found seeing Sam flustered cute, and hearing that Andy – what sort of name is Andy anyway?- was out of the picture was good, a little too good.

"No that's okay, I don't exactly need to talk about my dead end marriage, you been married?" she changed the subject to me and I almost choke "NO!" I say a little too loudly.

"Any kids?"

"Not that I know of" I shoot back.

This conversation is really straying too far into the personal area, way too far I think again when I notice how close we have somehow shifted.

Standing up quickly I look towards the front door, then back at Sam, she looks bemused "are you okay?"

"Yeah" I say but I don't feel it "is it hot in here?" I undo my top button and loosen my shirt some more, it is starting to feel really hot in here and the walls are closing in on me.

"Do you want another drink, I could get you one?"

The last thing I need right now is more alcohol but I don't get a chance to reply, mid shake of the head a small voice pops in.

"Mommy"

Now its Sam's turn to rush up, she almost trips in the effort to stand and twist around to face the small girl standing in the opening of the hallway that I assume leads to the rest of the house, including bedrooms. Bedrooms with beds… okay, thinking about something else.

I force myself to look at the little girl and observing her small features I realise that other than a similar shade of hair colour there is no resemblance between Sam and her daughter.

"Hey poppet, shouldn't you be asleep?" Sam addressed the little girl and starts to walk towards her.

"I needed to go to the toilet"

"Nice try, that's in the other direction and you went before bed"

"I'm thirsty"

"Yeah and then you _will _need to go to the toilet"

"I forgot to brush my teeth" the little girl changes tactics and Sam places her hands on her hips and tilts her head down at the girl, with a sly smile the child says instead "can I just have one more story? I missed you today" and she pouted.

I could see Sam giving in, "go ahead, I will wait" I say.

Sam shoots me a thankful smile and then reaches down and picks up her daughter, she throws her over her shoulder "okay one story and then its lights off no excuses"

I hear a small voice ask before they completely disappear "who is that man?"

And then a chuckled "a friend of Mommy's"

I'm in deep trouble, _deep _trouble.

…

Against my better instincts I waited in the small living room for Sam to come back, I could have just left and gone home but I didn't. It wasn't right to just leave without a goodbye even though it seemed the smart thing to do.

Now I wait on the couch alone, my hands between my spread knees, and my eyes continually going over every detail in the room.

There are no baby photos, it took me a good five minutes to figure it out but there are no baby photos anywhere in sight, the little girl that calls Sam Mommy was not displayed any younger than two. I don't have long to think about it before Sam is back, she is sitting back next to me before I even realise she had returned, "thanks for that, I was late home tonight and Elena was already ready for bed by the time I picked her up"

"She's a lucky little girl"

Sam smiles shyly at me "I like to think so. I try to give her everything I can"

"And her father is he in the picture?"

"There is no father" she pauses before adding quietly "Elena is my foster daughter"

"Oh" I'm not sure what else to say. She is not exactly what I expected after all these years, there is so little traces left of the troubled teen I once knew. Sam is just so sure of herself, so _there_. "Brooke would be so proud of everything you have done with your life" I tell her knowing it to be true, knowing on some other level that Brooke is a huge reason why Sam is where she is.

As if she had read my mind Sam goes on to say "I thought about that when I met Elena, she was two and I saw her and the life she had and I thought about the chance I could give her, the chance Brooke gave me, and I knew that I had to just do it. Loving Elle is just a bonus"

I stare at her, truly taken in by the sight of the woman in front of me an every new thing I learn about her, "look at you. All grown up, a foster mother, teacher, guardian ad litem, you are-"

"Please if you are going to say some line about how I'm some sort of saint" she laughs and looks at me with a slightly disgusted look at the thought, as if she doesn't get just how great she is, how what she does is changing lives.

Looking straight at her I tell her instead "I was just going to say you are amazing"

She looks up at me and time seems to freeze.

How did we get this close to each other, when did I slide across to her side? Or did she move to me, I'm not sure but suddenly we're sitting right next to each other, our hips brushing and her face is practically right below mine.

I tell myself this is not what I need, a do-gooder, and divorced single mother, who happens to be my exes former foster daughter, an ex who has just come back into my life in a messy court case, which said do-gooder is involved in. The crazy thing is that I'm thinking about not doing this because I shouldn't be thinking about doing it. This is Sampson; she is a kid, too young for me. She is…

I'm running out of reasons why it's wrong.

I am coming back to the fact that I am starting to feel something, a zing, an energy, between us, something I haven't felt so strongly in so long and all those reasons fade into the background as the feelings take centre stage.

Because the way she is looking at me, I think she is feeling it too and she is just confused but neither one of us can look away.

My relationships have a pattern, I fall for the broken girl and I fix her only to be left behind when she outgrows me and something more real comes along or she falls back to what she had before me, as if I was a transition until the right guy came back.

This should warn me off Sam, but as I look down into her widening eyes, as her pupils dilate, I don't see a broken girl, I don't see somebody in need of fixing, I just see her in all her glory.

Here is a girl who doesn't need saving.

And with the next thought I find myself leaning down and touching her lips with my own, gently, slowly… it's careful and hesitant but after a slight pause she kisses me back, one of her hands come up to cup my unshaven chin and she takes control.

The kiss is no longer careful, she opens my mouth and slides her tongue inside and I'm pushing her back onto the lounge, her soft body under me.

Somehow we are both lying full bodied on the small couch, our mouths devouring each other as her hands explore my body and mine keep me propped up above her.

She moans and then as I kiss the side of her mouth she sighs and her hands stop to grip my shirt, and then she runs them up my body and takes hold of my jacket, she slides it off of me and I return my lips to her mouth in a full kiss which quickly becomes out of hand.

Had I known we would end up like this I would have never knocked on that door because my heart falls too easily, and I can feel myself slipping against my better judgement and soon I may need to be the one saved.

I shouldn't be kissing Sam yet I don't stop.

Eventually we have to pull apart to breathe and I look down at her, her breathing is rough, and she's just as shocked as me but then she smiles and suddenly she's laughing forcing her body to shake under mine.

"Okay, I feel like a lot of things, laughing is not one of them"

"Sorry" she gets out between laughs "it's just I use to catch you and Brooke making out on the couch and now look at us"

Brooke. Oh my god. What am I doing? Sam was Brooke's foster daughter, hell she might as well have been mine and now I am pawing her on the couch.

"Don't" Sam sees the look in my eye and places a finger to my lips stopping me from saying I have to go, "just stop thinking" she tells me and leans up to kiss me again.

I get lost in it, in her. It never seems to end.

My hands are moving out of my control, as her fingers unbutton my shirt mine go straight to the hem of Sam's shirt and slip under.

Her moans of pleasure push me further, soon I am shirtless and her bare foot slips under my pants and one slides up and down my leg, it is my turn to moan.

Fingers play at the hair above the waist of my pants, then in the quiet room the sound of my belt unbuckling is all too loud, grinding into her I moan again, the heaviness of my erection pushing against her. Her neck rolls back and I begin to kiss the spot below her ear and her hand slackens as we move together.

My body has only one thought, straining to be closer to hers but I force myself to move slower or this will be over way too quickly.

Tilting her head back I take her lips and never stop the rhythm between us, imitating the act we both want with our tongues.

Her hands hold onto my hips and I trail one hand down her side and for a moment I play with the cords of her pants before closing my eyes tighter and slipping beneath the material.

Sam isn't wearing underwear, our kisses become more heated, and then I find her centre. She's wet and I fight the urge to pull her sweats and my own pants down and just push myself inside her. One thrust with our clothes still between us and then I touch her, my fingers moving quickly.

Sam stops kissing me, her hands still holding onto my hips she moves her body under mine, as husky sounds escape her throat. She gets louder and louder and I know she's close.

God.

Oh god.

A small scream breaks free from her and she relaxes beneath me, her hips still moving slightly against my fingers.

I give her one last kiss and then bury my face in her neck.

I could stay like this forever, it scares me just how tempting that idea is.

When she speaks her breath is hot against my neck, "do you have anything?" it sends shivers all the way down my spine.

"What?" I can barely understand her, my head is too full of my thoughts and my body is too distracted by still being on top of hers, and my hips give an involuntary twitch.

"Protection" she clarifies and then her hands are busy, they slide down my zip and I jump back.

"Whoa, hold on, I didn't expect this so no I am not prepared" how close was I to forgetting something as important as condoms, if she hadn't said anything I wouldn't have even thought about it, I would have entered her unprotected and completely happy while being unaware of it.

She smiles, that smirk that really could be the death of me, "that's alright, I'm sure I have some hidden away somewhere" and she wraps one hand around me.

I grow even harder but two thoughts enter my head, the unpleasant one of another man touching her intimately in the way that would need those 'hidden away' condoms, and how I am not a family guy.

It was a long time ago I settled down and became okay with not being the family guy, that I was never going to have what others have. No wife or kids. Commitment just wasn't for me, I'm okay with it, and really I am. No I'm not, it hurts, it hurts to be alone.

It hurts to fall in love and then lose it all and have to start all over again.

And looking down at Sam I see it happening, I picture her and her beautiful daughter, I picture a love that I could have and then I see it all being taken away. I picture the pain and I can't do it.

I just can't do it.

So I walk away before I can get hurt, and I see the confusion in Sam's eyes as I get up and step away "We can't do this"

"What are you talking about? We just did"

I grab my jacket and quickly head towards the door and she follows me "Julian!"

"I'm sorry" I mumble not looking at her as I open the door and run to my car, and I don't look back once as I get in and drive away.

…

My apartment is empty and dark when I walk inside and drop my keys, I walk like a zombie into my room and start stripping, belatedly remembering the shirt I left on Sam's floor.

Alone I get into bed, I close my eyes and try not to picture her, and I try not to remember the way she felt and smelled or even the way she made me feel, like I still have a heart. I fail miserably.

And then it hits me - this time I am the broken one.

_-x-_

_You get me closer to God  
You can have my isolation; you can have the hate that it brings  
You can have my absence of faith; you can have my everything_

Help me tear down my reason  
Help me; it's your sex I can smell  
Help me; you make me perfect  
Help me become somebody else

I wanna fuck you like an animal  
I wanna feel you from the inside  
I wanna fuck you like an animal  
My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God  
Through every forest, above the trees  
Within my stomach, scraped off my knees  
I drink the honey inside your hive  
You are the reason I stay alive

_- Closer, Nine Inch Nails_

**My brother Paul would be so proud of me using this song choice, a band he actually approves of. Love him, he's def my fave bio sib, but driving in his car gives me a headache though I'm not entirely sure he doesn't play his music that loud just so I can't talk to him. Devious bastard. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and to all those who review. Have a good day.**


	16. Her Diamonds

**Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or it's characters, or anything else to do with it, nor do I own the rights to Jodi Picoult's 'my sisters keeper'. Now if Mark wants to hand me over OTH I wouldn't complain.**

**Okay so I think its been maybe like a few months since I've updated this, so… awkward. **

**I would just like to say that hopefully next chapter comes quicker, but sometimes I just need a little inspiration or encouragement and don't get it, until I feel sick and am lying on the couch moaning in pain and suddenly a one tree hill episode comes on and its like oooh, and here I am a few hours later. **

**I would just like to give a shout out to the reviewers of last chapter, Diane, Alex, Nicole, Kayla, and some newbies sb1218 and EleniLeonora, thank you for the feed back and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

**On another note, I think on my profile page I have a poll up where you can vote on your feelings about Samulian (thanks Nicole for the name, I like it) and some art for the fic as well showing sorta how I imagine the kids to look like.**

**Later, Mickei b.**

_Oh what the hell she says_  
_I just can't win for losing_  
_And she lays back down_  
_Man there's so many times_  
_I don't know what I'm doin'_  
_Like I don't know now -x-_

_By the light of the moon_  
_She rubs her eyes_  
_Says it's funny how the night_  
_Can make you blind_  
_I can just imagine_  
_And I don't know what I'm supposed to do_  
_But if she feels bad then I do too_  
_So I let her be_

_And she says oooh_  
_I can't take no more_  
_Her tears like diamonds on the floor_  
_And her diamonds bring me down_  
_Cuz I can't help her now_  
_She's down in it_  
_She tried her best and now she can't win it's_  
_Hard to see them on the ground_  
_Her diamonds falling down_

-x-

Chapter Sixteen

_*Lucas*_

Though I had suspected sleep would elude me, somewhere during the night I closed my eyes and then the next thing I know I open them and the morning sun is there to greet me. I still feel like I spent the whole night tossing and turning, as if I didn't get one drop of sleep and my body aches.

Brooke cuddles next to me and to my surprise she is still sound asleep, it is a sight I do not see often. Actually I cannot remember the last time I got to watch her like this before last night. She's beautiful, lost in the world of dreams her face is relaxed and even a small smile graces her lips. I wonder what it is that has her so entertained.

I move carefully out from under her and she clings to me making it difficult and when I settle next to her she curls into my side and sighs in contentment. With this angle I can watch her more easily and I lay my head next to hers on the pillow and become mesmerized by her small even breaths. Reaching out a hand I tuck her hair behind her ear so her face is clear, nothing mars my view of her porcelain face. It is impossible to even contemplate moving away from her, the idea of loosing contact with her skin barely wrinkled with age is not an option so instead of removing my hand I move it to touch her cheek gently. Her skin is warm, radiating heat and love and comfort, her presence has always had a soothing effect on me to the point sometimes I couldn't stand being too close.

In the silence a quote comes to mind, the poet Philip James Bailey once wrote "_Ask not of me, love, what is love? Ask what is good of god above; Ask of the great sum what is light; Ask what is darkness of the night; Ask sin of what may be forgiven; Ask what is happiness of heaven; Ask what is folly of the crowd; Ask what is fashion of the shroud; Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss; Ask of thyself what beauty is." _And as the thought finished her eyes begin to flutter open.

"Good morning, Pretty Girl" I whisper and before her eyes fully open her smile widens, my finger grazes the indent on her closest dimple and she mumbles a happy yet still half asleep "good morning, husband"

She stretches briefly and then her eyes are wide open and she's looking straight at me, "I hate when you do that, watch me sleep, it makes me feel so vulnerable" and then she closes her eyes and snuggles a little bit closer resting her head on my chest, my hand starts to stroke her hair.

"I haven't had the opportunity to do so in such a long time" I speak softly and stare up at the ceiling. She mutters something and I chuckle at her stubbornness because I am sure it was a sarcastic comeback.

"For once I don't want to wake up" she complains, "I want to just stay in bed and pretend that the outside world doesn't exist, five more minutes"

"Take as long as you like" I reply and still my hand on her head, tangling my fingers in her dark locks I bend slightly and kiss her hair softly.

Yet not even two minutes later she flings herself over and lets out a frustrated groan, "why, Lucas?"

"Because we're strong enough to get through it" though no explanation will ever be good enough for either one of us.

She sighs, "I don't think I am, last night… I've never been so scared in my life"

"What did you feel, when Abby jumped into your arms, what did you feel?" I ask and she does not answer, her silence is what I expected because I know what I saw in her body. Her reluctance, her fear, of Abby and her own emotions couldn't stand a chance against the love that is in her. I know with out doubt that when Brooke had embraced Abby it was relief and love which she had felt. "Trust yourself, Brooke"

"Well I think I will trust myself a little bit more after I check in on the kids-" and she starts to get up, I grab her hand and stop her from getting too far away.

"About that"

"Lucas?" she kinks her brow and says my name in that mom tone she has – too much time around Haley and my mother over the years and she knows exactly how much edge to add to scare me a little.

"Sawyer over heard us fighting last night" better to rip it off like a bandaid.

"Oh" her face falls, then it turns to horror "oh my god she heard me say I'm not her mother"

"No, no, no" I keep hold of Brooke's hand as she tries to get away, kneeling up on the bed I hold her hands close to my chest and bend down to look into her eyes as she tries to look away, "no, Brooke, she didn't think of it like that, she heard that _I _told you that, she heard how much it hurt you when I took her back then, that you never wanted her to go"

"Of course I didn't, it nearly destroyed our marriage!"

I suck in a breath, "Sawyer doesn't think that, Brooke, she's believed all these years that you no longer wanted her"

"That's insane"

Insane for us to imagine now, two adults who have long since stopped questioning whether we love each other and our children, though not too long ago we were young, we were the ones who went day to day never knowing the love of two parents. At twelve the world is a different place and it is too easy to see things that are not there, even now the heart plays tricks, a twisted friend that breeds the greatest joy and the most excruciating pain.

Insane to contemplate, for all we've ever done is for our family, misguided as we are love is the driving force of every action.

If I could go back in time, return to the choices we made seven years ago, return to that situation, how different my actions would be. I let the anger, grief and pain inside me control every word and thing I did, and the two of us spent too long trying to cope alone that we lost sight of our family and the basic truth that no matter what we are in it together. Everything.

"How could she think that, I _love _her" Brooke's voice breaks, this threat to her already shaky relationship with Sawyer hits her hard on top of everything else. This week has been life watching the building blocks of our lives tumbling down one after another; everything titters on the brink waiting to fall next.

Two words escape me, out before I even think "I'm sorry" and like the past the moment they are said I feel the hopelessness in those words, how completely meaningless they are right now. How ever sorry I am that phrase does not change anything, it rarely does, an acknowledgement of some past wrong, and almost a promise that I cannot change. So I add on, gripping Brooke's hands still, "we'll go talk to her, explain everything, I'm not going to let this break us Pretty Girl, I'm not going to let Sawyer slip any further from us"

"Sometimes I feel like she's already _gone_" those hazel green eyes stare at me in fear, "where did they go Luke, Sawyer doesn't talk to us, Abby has to take us to court to, and Keith… why does it feel like we've already lost the battle?"

Because a part of us both already knows we have, thirteen years we've been fighting to save our son and after all this time here we are today still having to visit him in a hospital. It feels cruel to say it out loud, it feels like giving up, so I don't speak the words, I pull my wife into my arms and let her cry on my shoulder.

Her tears continue to fall, each one causing a stab of pain to hit my heart, and it's not until she pulls away and rubs her thumbs under my eyes that I realise that I silently joined her in the crying.

She smiles, it is grim, and her thumbs stay at the corner of my eyes, "how much more can we take?" she whispers, I stay silent, and her smile twists up and she answers herself "at least one more" and she rubs my eyes again, my tears stop falling and I return the favour by carefully wiping her own tears from her face, and I smile too.

…

There is this perfect memory I have untouched by time, so simple that it is perfect, when I think of it I can smile and that same sense of love comes rushing back. It is strange how this memory is during one of the worse times of my life, where life was hectic.

It was Abby's eighth birthday, belated as it was, and Keith was sick and barely out of hospital, Sawyer was a very broody fifteen and spent most of her time in her room listening to music or outside playing with the new camera Brooke had given to her for her own birthday. Brooke had wanted to do something special for Abby's birthday to make up for having to cancel the planned celebration; the only thing was she didn't inform anyone else of her plans.

First she kidnapped Abby from class, and then after school Sawyer and I were surprised by a limo picking us up, after Keith joined us we were driven to the airport and flown New York. We stayed the weekend, a holiday for the family, with every move we made planned by Abby.

When I think back on that weekend I don't remember Keith's sickly pallor, I don't remember a sullen Sawyer, or an upset Brooke. I remember the five of us laughing so hard, falling to the ground in a pile of joyful tears, the off tune singing and the most delicious cake of all time. I remember seeing my children, all three of them, smiling and dancing as we walked through central park or pretending to vomit whenever they caught Brooke and I kissing.

However that perfect memory I have is not in New York, as great as that weekend was, it is when we got home, tired and jetlagged and dying to get to sleep. Somehow, I'm still not sure how, we ended up on our huge king sized bed, and by we I mean Sawyer, Keith and Abby were right there between my wife and I. We fell asleep together and when I woke up I was surrounded by the four most important people in my life, together, wrapped in each others arms so innocently in a peaceful slumber, I'd looked over at Brooke who was awake too and our eyes met. In those moments before sleep claimed me again the world was perfect.

…

The photo hangs from a magnet on our fridge, in it the three children pose by the _Alice in Wonderland_ sculpture in Central Park, and my eyes are drawn to it as I wait for Brooke to return. She had insisted on seeing Sawyer by herself and I had reluctantly agreed, what needs to be said needs to be said in privacy without my eyes watching every second.

Steady, slow footsteps start making their way downstairs, I turn when they get closer just in time to see Abby walk into the room, "hey, baby girl, you feeling alright?"

Abby sends me a look, one that says _what do you think, dad?_ in a sarcastic tone, it is amazing the looks children can give you. With out a word Abby goes to the cupboard and pulls out a box of Cap'n Crunch and then walks closer to me until she's standing by my side, leaning onto the kitchen counter in front of her she dips her hand in and pulls out a small handful of the cereal.

After munching on them for a while Abby tilted the box in my direction, I take the offering and dip my hand in as well, and then together we stand their having our dry breakfast. Abby sighs, her glance briefly checking the time, "have you called the hospital?"

"He's still asleep" I answer and mentally go over the rest of what the nurse said. His temperature is still high which isn't ideal but he's stable so I hang onto that. I try not to worry, I tell myself my son has been in a worse condition and hey he's still here.

Abby turns around, now leaning her back against the counters she looks at me and asks quietly "can I go see him?"

"After school" and my reply gets a big sigh in response.

Soon after that Brooke is walking into the room and both Abby and I turn to her, she looks at me and I know it didn't go well with Sawyer.

"She wasn't there" Brooke says and my shoulders sag, as if sensing we needed to be alone Abby quietly leaves the kitchen and Brooke and I meet half way, I pull her into my arms, but the tears don't fall from her until she knows for sure Abby cannot see or hear her.

"She's probably has a lecture or is with that boyfriend of hers" I say and Brooke scoffs, her tears going away, and I smile "we're her parents, we're not suppose to like her boyfriend"

"Right" Brooke moves away, she checks her face before calling out to Abby "ABRA SCOTT, IF YOU HURRY I WILL TAKE YOU BY THE HOSPITAL BEFORE SCHOOL" and I've never seen Abby run so fast before she's back in the room, her eyes are lit up "really?"

"Of course" Brooke nods and Abby is off again, when we're alone Brooke turns back to me "do you mind staying with Keith this afternoon, I want to be here in case Sawyer comes home"

To say I'm shocked is an understatement, for a moment I am not sure I heard her correctly but I go over her words again and they're the same as I first heard, nonplussed I kind of shake my head "yeah, sure"

"Thanks" and she comes over to me and leans up to kiss my cheek before going to leave the room.

I just stand here, not sure what exactly happened. Was my anxious wife, my over protective wife, my don't trust doctors alone with my son wife, just… well… what happened?

"Brooke?"

She turns back around before leaving, her hand on the doorsill and a smile on her face, she looks oddly calm, "yes?"

"Are you okay?"

And that's when I see the tension in her eyes, the emotions she is keeping tightly guarded, it flickers for a second her smile even falters and then she replies "at least one more, right?"

"Yeah"

She puts on that brave smile and goes to turn away again only to come straight back, "last night, you said there were things we needed to talk about"

For a second my mind is blank and then I remember, "It's about Abby's guardian ad litem, she came here last night-"

"Is she nice, did Abby like her?" Brooke quickly interrupted and her brow kinks up waiting for me to answer.

I fight to find the right words, "Uh-yeah… Brooke, she's-" and the doorbell rings, Brooke spins her head in the direction of the front door.

"One second, I'll just get that"

"Brooke, just wait!" I go after her.

She is fast and I'm standing just behind her when she opens the door, over her head I see Sam standing on our porch and her eyes widen at the sight of Brooke.

I can't see Brooke's face but I can picture her shocked expression, the moment hangs in space and time, moving in slow motion Brooke seems to turn to me, I don't even think she realises that when her hand drops from the door it shuts.

The sound is muffled, my ears are ringing, all I see is Brooke's face and there is that shock.

"It's Sam" I tell her, "Abby's guardian ad litem is Sam"

She steps forward and so do I, her hand goes up to stop me, her face fierce "this is that one thing… I can't…" she shakes her head and quickly walks off, saying one more time "I can't"

The front door opens and Sam welcomes herself in, "Brooke"

"Mom" Abby's voice says at the same time as she cuts Brooke's exit at the foot of the stairs, Abby is smiling "I'm ready"

Brooke is trapped between her daughter and her previous foster daughter, one who holds the future of her brother's life in her hands and the other a girl who once hurt Brooke more than words could say.

After Keith was born Sam's rejection deeply affected Brooke, she never truly understood why Sam no longer wanted to be part of her family.

"Mom?" Abby questions her mother's odd silence, and Brooke glances at Sam and then back at Abby then returns to Sam until settling on Abby once more.

My daughter, dressed in simple jeans and a long sleeved green shirt with her long hair out, creasing her brow, she looks over her mother to Sam, a woman she's not long met, "Hey, Miss Colson"

"It's Sam" and I can tell her smile is nervous and though she directs the correction to Abby her eyes never leave Brooke.

"Do you wanna talk to me or something?" Abby looks worried, I can't blame her for the air is thick with tension, so think I feel like I could cut it with a knife.

"I was actually hoping to catch your parents but I would like to see you after school perhaps, if that is okay with them and you, maybe we could go for a walk?"

"Dad?" Abby asks and I nod and give my okay.

Brooke span around, her spine now stiff and her jaw lifted "you'll have to talk to Lucas, I need to take Abby to school" which I could tell Sam didn't believe for one second.

"I was hoping to talk to you… Brooke, please"

"_Now _you want to talk to me" Brooke shoots back, her cheeks growing red, "I have to take _my daughter_ to school" the words slash at Sam and she flinches.

"We're still going to the hospital on the way, right Mom?" Abby is apprehensive, Brooke nods and grabs her hand, "come on" she says.

"Brooke" Sam tries again.

Abby hurries to keep at Brooke's side, "bye Dad, bye Sam" and as we stand here Brooke and Abby leave the house.

"Give her time. She didn't have any warning" I tell Sam and she sends me a grateful smile, "would you like something to drink?"

"Sure" and I don't need to lead her to the kitchen, I follow just behind her and she takes a seat while I prepare her drink, "what would you like?" I ask and she requests a very sugary coffee, I shake my head as I hand it to her and take my seat.

We don't speak at first, Sam looks around and I just stare at her, last night I never really got a chance to take her in. Seeing Julian in my house had gotten the attention that wasn't focused on Keith. It's so surreal to see her here again after all these years, sitting in our kitchen.

Then I remember that the seat she's taken is the same one she had always claimed, and I am not even sure she knows it.

"You look good, I'm sorry I wasn't more welcoming last night"

"I don't blame you" she's quick to say and she takes a careful sip before adding "I don't blame Brooke either. I didn't expect this"

I give a little huff, "None of us did"

Your daughter suing you isn't the situation you envision, especially with reunions with familiar faces and the reappearance of a past daughter she lost would only serve as a reminder to Brooke of what may be to come.

Almost fifteen years later and I still remember the night Brooke returned from visiting Sam as clear as if it had happened only last week. Seeing my wife heartbroken and in tears is not something you forget easily. I look across the table at the young woman who was the cause of so much pain for Brooke, yet who my wife had loved as if she was family, this woman that was once the teenager who stood by Brooke's side the day of our wedding.

"This isn't awkward at all" her dry tone comes out, and I blink and drag my eyes from Sam and break a stare that was more than likely making her increasingly uncomfortable.

"Would you like to go for a drive?" I ask, not knowing I was going to say so until she question was hanging between us. Sam sends me a dubious look, and I think about where we could go, only one answer comes to mind "there's someone I would like you to meet".

At one point Brooke had loved Sam as deeply as she now loves Keith, it seems only fair that she now meet the boy who was at the centre of it all, the boy who could have been a brother to her or at the least some sort of honorary nephew.

In her eyes I can see her debate it, knowing instinctively where I would take her, and then she nods, stiffens her spine and lifts her chin, the move so reminisce of Brooke for a moment it is like I am staring straight at her.

-x-

_She sits down and stares into the distance_  
_And it takes all night_  
_And I know I could break her concentration_  
_But it don't feel right _

_By the light of the moon_  
_She rubs her eyes_  
_Sits down on the bed and starts to cry_  
_And there's something less about her_  
_And I don't know what I'm supposed to do_  
_So I sit down and I cry too_  
_And don't let her see_

_And she says oooh_  
_I can't take no more_  
_Her tears like diamonds on the floor_  
_And her diamonds bring me down_  
_Cuz I can't help her now_  
_She's down in it_  
_She tried her best and now she can't win it's_  
_Hard to see them on the ground_  
_Her diamonds falling down_

_She shuts out the night_  
_Tries to close her eyes_  
_If she can find daylight_  
_She'll be all right_  
_She'll be all right_  
_Just not tonight_

_And she says oooh_  
_I can't take no more_  
_Her tears like diamonds on the floor_  
_And her diamonds bring me down_  
_Cuz I can't help her now_  
_She's down in it_  
_She tried her best and now she can't win it's_  
_Hard to see them on the ground_  
_Her diamonds falling down_

_- _Her Diamonds_, Rob Thomas _


	17. Beautiful Tree

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, not the characters, nor OTH or My Sisters Keeper, if I did grab a few friends and spend that hard earned cash on a nice holiday. But instead i'm sitting on my couch writing fanfiction. yep, i'm never going on a plane the rate I am going.**

_Bent or broken_

_It's the family tree_

_Bent or broken_

_It's the family tree_

_Each branch a part of a part of me_

_This is my tree_

_And it's a beautiful tree_

_Dwarf or giant_

_It's the family tree_

_Dwarf or giant_

_It's the family tree_

_Growing just as tall as it was meant to be_

_This is your tree_

_And it's a beautiful tree_

_What a beautiful tree_

-x-

Chapter Seventeen

*_Sam_*

This morning just doesn't sit right with me, from the moment I woke up I was in a grump, and not the I haven't had my coffee yet type but the _I just made a fool of myself last night slash have to face people I don't want to face slash where the hell are my favourite jeans_ grump.

Elena watches me slump around the room and I try to act more… chipper, I don't know, more like me. Not this woman, this grown woman, who can barely put one foot in front of the other, who's brain is racing so fast I can barely speak without stumbling over the words.

I groan in frustration. Seriously, where are those jeans? And what was Julian thinking, _he _was the one who came to my house late at night, _he _was the one who put his hands all over me and then, what, just left me there? I groan again and knock the pile of clothes off the table "where are those jeans?"

"The ones you're wearing Mommy?"

I turn slowly to face Elena, she sits at the table licking her spoon with an innocent smile, and I place a hand on my hip, my hand opens and feels the denim under them. Looking down I see the jeans that cling tightly to my thighs. I am a mess. Julian comes into my life and I become a brainless mess, standing there in my bra and jeans, with my daughter staring at me I start to laugh. It's uncontrollable.

Elle wrinkles her tiny little nose, "What's so funny?"

"I am" I tell her, still laughing I walk up behind her and ruffle her dark hair, grabbing the next chair I flip it around and sit down, taking the brush off the table I start to carefully untangle her hair. Elena places her spoon down and leans back, her eyes closing, "did I ever tell you about my foster mom, hmm?" I ask her, parting her hair I brush one half into a pony and pull a purple lackey from my wrist and tie it around.

"Nuh-uh" she answers and is smart enough not to shake her head, as I create the second pony I continue the story "her name was Brooke, she lived in a big house and had a big smile-"

"Was she nice?"

"The nicest" I confirmed and pulled Elena's chair around to look into her eyes, I am not sure why I am telling her about Brooke. Most likely because I know I'll have to face my former foster mother soon. "Now how about you go brush those teeth of yours" I change the subject realising I'm not really ready to talk about this. It was easy with Julian. I felt like he got me, it's stupid. I shake my head at myself and watch Elena run off.

"Elle, slow it down"

When I get back up and reach for a shirt something catches my eye, I pull the blouse on and quickly button it up while walking around the table and over to the couch. There on the floor is an abandoned man's suit shirt, and like a teenager I bring it to my nose and sniff. It smells like Julian, I cannot pinpoint exactly what the aroma is, his cologne mixed with something spicy and that earthy smell that is just his which is random because Julian is the least outdoorsy person I know. How am I meant to face him again knowing he'd seen me like _that_ and walked away? He just left! Anger boils inside me once again.

As angry as I am I still fold the shirt up and place it on the arm of the couch, smoothing its creases before walking away.

Five minutes later I am dressed ready to go and Elle is watching cartoons, at the table I drum my fingers against the surface while the phone is to my ear. For some reason I turn slightly when Sylvia picks up, as if having my back to Elena magically means she can't hear me, "hi, it's Sam"

"Why does that not sound reassuring?"

Instead of answering I sigh, loudly, am I that obvious.

"Sam, if this is about the case I can find someone else if you don't want to be involved, I understand that it's a very emotional one-"

"No" I'm a little loud and quickly eye Elena before lowering my voice "it's not that I don't want to do it, it's just more complicated than first thought, and maybe you won't want me to be involved"

"Sam?"

"I know them"

"The whole world knows of them Sam, I told you it was high profile" and she chuckles a bit, usually Sylvia is quicker. Rolling my eyes I say again, "I _know _them"

She is silent for a while and then "how well do you know the Scott's?" she sounds nervous and confused.

I take a deep breath, "have I ever told you about my foster mom"

"The one who took you in at fifteen and saved you from yourself, once or twice… don't tell me she was…"

"Brooke Davis" I cut in.

"Brooke Scott was your _mother_"

"Foster mother" usually people emphasised the difference not forgot it, "is that going to change things?"

"Conflict of interest, yes Sam, I need you to get the okay from both sides but as long as you do it shouldn't be a problem, it's not going to be a problem is it?"

It would be easy to say the damage is already done, we can't go back and step out of the situation now we're all in it. Brooke, Lucas, Abby, Julian and me, we're in it together now whether we like it or not.

Still I think over Sylvia's question a moment longer before answering, "No, it won't be a problem. I'm sure Abby will be okay with it, I mean her lawyer use to date her mother if that isn't conflict of interest what's one measly temporary living arrangement in the scheme of things"

"Baker _dated _the mother!" Sylvia was shocked I could tell, then her voice calmed down "don't even bother explaining, I don't need to know what happens outside the court case"

"So we're cool?"

"Get the okay"

"Will do, bye Syl"

"Bye" and I hear her mumble something else before hanging up and it sounded suspiciously like a sing songed _lifestyles of the rich and the famous_. I hum a little tune, mentally groaning at the thought that Good Charlotte will be stuck in my head all day.

There is a knock at the door, "I'll get it" Elena calls out before I even stand but by the time she's opened it I'm standing right behind her anyway. Charlotte Lang, the mother of Elena's sometimes best friend (depending on the day of the week) is standing there with Katie's bag in her hand and a smile plastered on her face. I wouldn't exactly say I use Charlotte but most of the time Elena and Katie are inseparable so she is the natural choice for an emergency babysitter, when I have a case Charlotte is so helpful, she is more than happy to take Elle to school or look after her afterwards. As great as Charlotte can be we personally are not friends, truth is I'm not even sure I like her.

She's one of those shiny, happy people, and not in a Brooke Davis cheery way, in a freakishly nice always smiles has playgroup at her house sure borrow my sugar way, if you know what I mean. She's like a preschool teacher twenty-four seven, down to the tone of voice she uses, I don't know if she was like this before she became a mother but she talks to everyone she meets as if they are five year olds. It's just a little overwhelming and sometimes a tad condescending.

Still I am polite and smile back in the short time before Elle leaves with her, I get down to Elle and make sure her bag is placed securely on, "have a great day sweetie" and kiss her on the cheek. Elena wipes the same cheek in an unthinking move at the same time she places a small hand on my shoulder and pecks my lips, "bye Mom"

And then they are gone.

There's always that slight pang when we part, small and quick in my chest it's usually gone before I can realise it is there. I guess I always have this fear it will be the last time I see her, that when we say goodbye and walk away from each other Elena will never come back. The irony does not escape me, when I was sixteen I walked away from the woman who gave me a home and a mother all in one, a few years after that I said goodbye to her for good. There is a fear inside me that one day I will lose Elena to the same fate.

I tell myself it is different. Elena was so young when I took her in, she never went from foster home to foster home like I did and in all respects but one I am her mother and that is all she has ever really known, as she gets older the time before _us _will fade from her memory. With Brooke and me our relationship had so many layers, though for a brief time we lived like mother and daughter, and I never question the fact we loved each other, our relationship could easily resemble that of two sisters as well and we held a friendship that mothers and daughters rarely get the chance to have. It is hard to seriously look at someone not even ten years older than you and first think 'my mom' but she did become my family and that was all that mattered. The title or the blood wasn't important. Which probably makes my decision to cut myself out of her life look a little like an overreaction, the thing is it was never meant to be so permanent, at first my intentions were to simply separate the emotional bond, to take a step back from that mother/daughter element that didn't fit us anymore. I had a mother and though I never called Rebecca by Mom she had thrown herself into the role and tried to make up for sixteen years of not being there, at the point when Keith was born I'd spent more time under Rebecca's roof than Brooke's and still Rebecca was trying so hard to live up to the woman who had come before her. I had two women struggling to keep me part of their families, making room for me in their lives and trying to be there for me as I changed from girl to woman. And change I did, sooner than later I was an adult; my life in many ways wasn't too far away from where Brooke was at. She was just starting her own family, happily married to Lucas, being called Momma by Sawyer, becoming a real mother with Keith, and she glowed in this new life. I simply didn't fit anymore, not as a daughter anyway.

Fifteen years later I can look back and regret how it ended, how cruel I was when I told her I didn't need another mother, how I brutally sent her back to her real family. I still believe I did the right thing, I just went about it in the wrong way and I lost one of the best friends I ever had. I lost my over protective big sister, the girl I talked about _life _with, boys and clothes and make up and all the stupid things that came into my mind, the one I could call when I needed to complain or cry or just laugh. The slightly older woman who was there to lend a quick twenty or eye what I was eating but never said a word against it or my lifestyle – unless she was in one of those moods. I miss it, I miss her. Brooke was one in a million.

But it's different, Elena and I, it is different. Still that pang is always there, still that fear hovers at the back of my mind and my own ever present past is like fuel to the nightmare of what could be.

...

Most of life is like a drive, it's a journey from where you began to where you need to go, there are the needed twists and turns and sometimes you get lost or miss your street, you need to go back every so often because you've forgotten something and other times because you went the wrong way. Like a drive it's that filler time, you sight see and wander around, take a few breaks, not really pay attention to where you are and what's around you. I think life is a lot like a drive, I only hope that when I finally get to where I'm going it is where I want to be.

Right now I am on my way to the Scott house only this time I know exactly what I am getting into, sort of, I know who I will be facing this time if that counts. The drive there is completely straight forward, I know where I am going and everything else has just disappeared.

Nerves begin to build up inside me, I feel like I am handing my test to a teacher knowing I've completely bombed it because I chose to throw rocks into the river instead of staying 'home' and studying. The closer I get the more nervous I feel.

When I do park in front of the house and see the two cars that are already there I am not prepared for the surge of... excitement? No, it's not exactly that, its anticipation. It's a thirst for what is coming next.

The nerves are gone by the time I get out of the car and start heading towards the front of the house and I am bouncing on the spot when I stop at of the red door. Now here I can't seem to grasp what to do next, do I knock, once upon a time I would have just walked straight inside and now I am faced with this dilemma of knowing Brooke is inside this house and not knowing how to be doing the same thing. Like a stranger I settle for ringing the bell and wait anxiously for what comes next.

It is strange how I never really expected she would answer the door, my mind pictured Lucas or one of the girls so when the door opens, I swear in slow motion flicking slowly frame by frame, and I recognise first the sight of her dark hair, I become frozen on the spot.

Her face appears, Brooke, here in front of me so close I could just reach out and touch her, and she doesn't get it at first, as if she's just woken up from a dream and hasn't realised she is now awake and staring at her own room, then it hits her. I see the recognition, I see the flash of pain before it is hidden and she slips her mask over her eyes yet still her mouth is slightly parted and the shock is written on her face, and then that as well is wiped from her face.

Neither one of us can say anything so instead we just stand here looking at each other with all these years between us and then the door is once again between us and I'm staring at red paint where Brooke's face was a second ago.

It had felt like minutes, perhaps even hours, in truth the whole incident was over and done within a few seconds.

The easy choice would be to turn away, to not face what I did all those years ago, I could leave and call Sylvia and tell her I cannot after all do it. It would be easy for me and I can then go back to my life, before I met Abby, before I knew about Keith, before Julian came walking through my door, for me it would be easier but there is also a girl inside that house and for her it would be that much harder. And I cannot let Abra Scott down like I did her mother.

There really is no turning back, only moving forward. Like so many times in the past I take hold of the doorknob, my fingers curling around the familiar object and push forward, and like that I am letting myself back inside this house.

"Brooke" the name falls from my lips, rolling off my tongue as if it was only yesterday that I last called after her. At the same time Abby's voice goes "Mom" and the two words mix together, for a second I wasn't even sure which one I said.

Then Abby adds on a happy "I'm ready" sounding so happy and so completely unaware of the tension around her.

My mind goes in and out of the moment as Brooke continues to look between Abby and me, and then Abby must notice me because she says "Hey, Miss Colson"

Without taking my eyes off Brooke I correct Abby "It's Sam" just Sam, at heart I'm the same girl Brooke use to know, so though I'm talking to Abby I'm really nervously addressing Brooke and waiting for her to do or say something.

Abby in all her innocence finally seems to understand something is happening, something is off, she looks worried and suddenly unsure "do you wanna talk to me or something?"

"I was actually hoping to catch your parents but I would like to see you after school perhaps, if that is okay with them and you, maybe we could go for a walk?"

She looks to Lucas "Dad?" and he nods.

Finally coming alive Brooke stiffens, not taking the bait to involve me "you'll have to talk to Lucas, I need to take Abby to school" and I know she is lying and trying to be strong, trying to act like I didn't hurt her by pretending that my presence means nothing.

All I really want now though is for her to speak to me, really speak to me, to look into my eyes and not wear the mask. I never knew how much I did miss her until now. Trying again I say "I was hoping to talk to you… Brooke, please"

"_Now _you want to talk to me" Brooke snaps back, emotion lacing her voice and then turning away she adds on "I have to take _my daughter_ to school" and I flinch. She is trying to hurt me like I hurt her and it works.

"We're still going to the hospital on the way, right Mom?"

In a rush Brooke nods and grabs Abby's hand "come on" she says, moving fast to get away from me and everything I stand for. For the first time I realize how hard it would be for Brooke to see me in the current situation, I must remind her of lose, of what it is like to love a child and then have them suddenly gone, a pattern that has become too common in her life.

"Brooke" I call after her as she rushes by me with Abby struggling to keep up, then the girl quickly says bye to us before the two of them are gone and I feel a pang in my chest.

"Give her time. She didn't have any warning" Lucas says and I am thankful for his words and his promise that it will get better. After all there is no one who knows Brooke better than Lucas.

...

"This isn't awkward at all" I say dryly as the awkward silence continues as we sit at the kitchen table, Lucas blinks and finally stops staring at me. Even so we remain silent still and the awkwardness doesn't seem to lessen.

Lucas shifts in his chair and then asks me "Would you like to go for a drive?" he's hesitant as if the question shocks even him and I'm not sure how to take it. A drive, what to go get ice cream or something? And then he adds on "there's someone I would like you to meet".

A chill runs down my spine.

He wants me to meet Keith. There are many reasons why this could be a bad idea, it could interfere with my decision because I am meant to solely focus on Abby and what is best for her even if it means Keith gets the short end of the straw. It will be easier making this decision if I don't allow myself to form a bond with the boy, then again I am curious and I will no doubt have to face him eventually. I might as well just get it over with.

I lift my chin and straighten up, preparing myself for what is ahead I nod, Lucas nods back and moves his seat back as he gets up. I follow, at the door to the kitchen I turn back for one last glance and my eyes fall onto the chair I just abandoned. It was the same one I always used to sit at, my place at the table, and I can't help but wonder who claims it now I am gone.

Though Lucas offered to give me a lift I chose instead to follow him, not only does it give me an easy getaway car but it allows me the opportunity to think by myself about what just happened and what is about to happen.

Though the hospital is barely fifteen minutes away the journey seems to take forever, my mind never stops turning and having Julian's perfectly folded shirt sitting on the passenger seat next to me doesn't help.

My thoughts drift to the stubborn man who seems to fill most corners of my head these days, grudgingly those thoughts then move to the events of last night and I can feel his phantom hands on my body trailing the same path as before. I have to force my eyes to remain open yet I can still picture his face above mine, his tanned skin against my own and the taste of beer on his lips.

What am I? Hell I am a thirty five year old woman, mother and divorcee, and here I am acting like a horny fifteen year old, if I have a problem with Julian I should just face him, tell him how I feel. Then I have to face what I feel, this attraction that completely shocked me yet felt so damn right. But what kind of excuse is that, it's the type of excuse a teenager thinks of. Arghh!

Fuck this.

"Fuck this" I say out loud just as we finally reach the hospital parking lot. Keep your mind on the business at hand, Sam.

Out of the car Lucas and I look at each other, I slam my door and move around his car until I am by his side. He nudges his head towards the entrance and I follow, again we lapse into a silence.

I take the chance to look at Lucas, his fair hair is now silvered at the temple and a few strays break the blonde but it is still thick and full and only adds to his charm. His permanent four o'clock shadow is still there, a little darker just over his top lip and in one spot on his chin, it makes him look older and slightly worn out and rough, not necessarily in a bad way. You can also tell he is married to Brooke, I have noticed that when he got with Brooke his wardrobe improved and became more sharp yet more casual in many ways too, he was either dressed as if he was going to work out or the complete opposite. Out came the button up shirts, more colour was added to his usually bleak style and his hair became slightly ruffled, never too long and never too short. Must admit though I probably wouldn't have noticed if Haley hadn't mentioned the pattern after Brooke and Lucas got back together. I use to laugh at picture of Brooke dragging Lucas around the shops or her surprising him with a new shirt, I could just imagine her lovingly wrinkling her nose up at what he was putting on as he changed until he chose something to her liking.

"I like your jacket" I say in a tone Brooke or even Julian would know meant my words had an ulterior meaning, Lucas sends me a sideways look not sure how to take the compliment, then he looks forward and answers "thanks, Brooke gave it to me"

With a smirk I match my stride with Lucas' but not before taking in the silver c|b logo on the back of his collar.

We don't pass a lot of people as we make our way through the hospital halls, a few doctors and mainly nurses are the only people we cross, a lot of them nod in Lucas' direction and there are even a few waves. He is here often enough that the majority of the hospital knows him, then again with a sick child I can imagine Brooke and Lucas donating enough money to the hospital to make their name and faces royalty to this place.

Seeing all the doctors brings me back to why I'm here and that brings them back to Abby, "when I was first assigned Abby's case they weren't aware I knew your family, now I've told the judge I need to make sure none of you have any complaints about my involvement"

"I'll have to talk to Brooke about it but as long as Abby is okay with it I am"

"And Brooke?" I ask, Lucas sighs and doesn't say anything. I nod, yep, that is what I thought.

A few corners and doors later Lucas stops in front of a room, "here we are" and he knocks softly before poking his head in, 'hey, you're still here"

"He's asleep, Abby was hoping he would wake up before we have to go" Brooke whispers loud enough back so we can hear.

Forgetting I was even there Lucas enters the room and I let out a deep breath before following, the moment Brooke sees me she stands up, not acknowledging my presence she leaves the room with the excuse she needs a coffee.

Lucas sends me an apologetic look, "I'll go" and follows his wife out. With a sigh I turn back towards the bed, Abby is leaning against the bed kneeling on one of the chairs, she looks at me with her big eyes and kinks a brow, and I can practically see her asking the question _what was that about?_

Then I look away from her to stare at the boy asleep in the hospital bed. Keith is as pale as a sheet of paper, his dark locks are the same shade as his mothers, in fact other than a similar jaw line and build to Lucas the resemblance to Brooke is amazing. As if reading my mind his eyes begin to flutter open and they are the same dark, burnished brown green Brooke looks out of.

Abby bites her bottom lip and for the first time I notice she's been holding her brothers hand the whole time, her eyes literally light up when Keith wakes up and sends her a small smile, even though Keith's own eyes glaze over in pain, "hey sis"

"Hey"

"What are you doing here?" it's quiet and groggy yet Keith doesn't falter with one single word.

I watch Abby lean down closer, "Mom brought me over before school" and she bites her bottom lip again. Immediately Keith looks around searching for his mother, his eyes kind of skip over me before coming back when he confirmed no one else was around, "this is Sam, my guardian ad litem, she gets to tell the judge what she thinks is best for me and all" Abby answered the unspoken question, then her gaze turned to me and her eyebrows lowered in thought "she's meant to give an un bias opinion" and something in her tone makes me think she's asking a question.

"But?" Keith asks picking up on the same thing I did.

Abby smiled again as she turns back to her brother, "but Mom does that thing every time Sam walks into a room, you know, she walks out"

Once again Keith's are on me, I shift my feet feeling uncomfortable with his thoughtful gaze, his eyes are looking straight through me as if he can see into my soul, "ah" he drawls and the siblings share a look.

They probably think Brooke hates me, then again with the role I'm meant to play I guess it's to be expected. I shrug "so she hates me"

Keith chuckles and it turns into a cough, Abby anxiously waits for her brother to settle down before she sinks into her chair and looks at me, "I don't think she hates you"

"She does that, just leaves the room" Keith adds on.

While I listen I move closer and take the seat next to Abby, "she thinks we don't know" Keith's weak voice continues.

I take the bait, "know what?"

"That she doesn't want us to see her cry, that's why she walks away and Dad always follows, she's not as strong as she pretends"

Without thinking I nod, an unconscious gesture when somebody says something you agree with, and two pairs of eyes narrow.

It's Abby who speaks next, "Sawyer thought you looked familiar"

I nod again, there is no point keeping my association with the family a secret when I'll have to tell Abby soon anyway. They wait and I keep my eyes on Abby when I reply "I knew her when she was little"

"You're Mom's Sam" Keith says but Abby still looks confused, he turns his head more to his sister "she's the girl in the wedding pictures"

"Mom's other bridesmaid?" Abby asks in shock and Keith nods, something tells me this boy is very observant.

"You were friends?" Abby turns to me, I can see she's closed herself off from me a little, taken a step back from the trust she was once so willing to give me.

Friends, I wouldn't exactly call Brooke and I friends, so I shake my head "no, she was my foster mother. We haven't talked in a really long time" guilt and regret enters my voice and straight away Keith's eyes sadden in understanding. I've never seen someone with such expressive eyes.

"I understand if this means you would like a new ad litem, when we became aware of the connection the judge agreed to find a new one if either side opposed to my involvement" pretty much, anyway.

Abby goes to say something but Keith's hand grips her wrist and she looks at her brother, some unspoken message is passed between them and then Keith nods, Abby returns her attention to me "I guess it's kinda cool though Mom didn't look happy"

"She's mad at me. I said some really mean things a long time ago"

'You're sorry" Keith tells me, he doesn't ask, he simply states the fact and then closing his eyes and sinking into his pillow he adds on "she's not mad... Abs can you go get Mom and Dad?"

With a nod Abby is jumping off her chair and bouncing out of the room. The only sound left is the faraway noises of the hospital and the nearby ticking of the clock which gets louder with each second.

Soon Keith speaks again, his eyes still closed "everyone expects me to be mad, I'm not, but everyone still seems to think I should feel something else" then his eyes open and he's once again looking straight at me, "do you think I should be mad?"

"No, no I don't, I think you should feel however you want to feel, just like your sister" and he smiles at my response but the smile falls quickly and is replaced by a sigh.

I can't help but ask, "How _do _you feel?"

"Tired, so tired" is the whispered answer I get, his head rolls to the side and the more he is awake the more colour seems to come to his cheeks though he is still so pale, and for the first time I don't see the expression in his eyes or the shade which is just like his mothers instead I notice how bloodshot they are.

His soft voice is so deep, it's not as husky as his mothers but I think it could be even more so one day, that is if he gets the chance to grow older, for now though it's deeper than one would assume but gentle and soft like a lullaby, "they think I don't see it but I do, I'm barely holding on but so are they. She doesn't sleep, you know, my Mom, and we never see her cry but she does, and my dad is always waiting for the next thing, every time he looks at us it's like it may be the last time. And Sawyer, she acts like she doesn't care but that's not true, she just doesn't know how to cope with it all and never realises that everyone else has the same problem. I see it, I see it all" his eyes drift closed, his words become even quieter, I don't catch the last of what he says as he falls back to sleep.

Abby walks back into the room and the small noise she makes catches my attention, and this time when I look at her I see something else. They are the same, Keith and Abby, he may be dying and she may be very much alive but they are the same, the connection between them is so easy to see when they are together. After twelve years they are both tired, it weighs in their eyes, Abby was just the first to lay her arms down and give in.

From behind their daughter Brooke and Lucas appear, they are disappointed when they see Keith is asleep again and it's written all over their faces.

"I better go to school now" Abby tells us and she quickly takes hold of her mother's hand, it looks so natural for them even though she is a twelve year old girl. Together they walk over to Keith's bed, Abby sends me a cautious look and I know she's holding herself back, she hesitates by her brother and then leans forward and copies the kiss Brooke place son his cheek only Abby hand goes to Keith's chest, her fingers spread over where his heart would be. Against his cheek Abby lets out a tiny sigh and smiles, "later, bro"

I stand as they move away from the bed and Abby doesn't send me a second look before she leaves the room, Brooke on the other hand stays behind and hesitates much like Abby did moments before. My eyes stay on her and then she finally looks at me, really looks at me and the next second I know her arms are around me, she whispers into my ear "it's good to see you" and pulls away, she flashes me a sad smile before following after Abby.

But I got it, her approval and her welcome. As small as the move was the meaning behind it was enormous.

Alone with a sleeping Keith and Lucas I can't help but smile, it's my usual confident smirk for sure, "I told you so" Lucas tells me, he doesn't wait for my reaction, he moves towards the bed and the chair Abby had been using.

"Maybe I should go"

"You can stay if you like"

"I have a class to teach later and... I got to meet him"

Lucas is still looking at his son, "did it help?"

I tilt my head in thought and finally settle for a "it made me understand a few things" and Lucas nods at that.

When I leave the room I think he quickly forgets I was even there, as I hover by the door Lucas bows his head and his shoulders sag, like Abby his hand clings to Keith.

...

My car drives out of the hospital parking lot though my mind is still stuck in that room. As I drive away two vans catch my attention, the logo of different TV channels flash by me and are then gone. I quickly forget about them and everything else except for the decision that has to be made and all the repercussions that could come from it, either way they are going to lose.

-x-

_Strong or fragile_

_It's the family tree_

_Strong or fragile_

_It's the family tree_

_See how the sun shines through the leaves_

_This is our tree_

_And it's a beautiful tree_

_What a beautiful tree_

_Sure, it's broken_

_But it's the family tree_

_Sure, it's broken_

_But it's the family tree_

_I can feel the sap running through me_

_This is my tree_

_And it's a beautiful tree_

- Beautiful Tree, _Rain Perry_


	18. Scars

**Disclaimer: I don't own oth, or my sister keeper, or anything else. im cool with that most of the time.**

**hey, sorry its been i while since ive updated this story, thanks for your patience, and here's the next chapter. but before you read on i'd just like to thank those who reviewed especially allie who like never forgets to, and as promised the character named after you enters the picture this chapter. thanx, luv mickei**

_I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut  
My weakness is that I care too much  
And my scars remind me that the past is real  
I tear my heart open just to feel__  
_

_Drunk and I'm feeling down_  
_And I just wanna be alone_  
_I'm pissed cause you came around_  
_Why don't you just go home_  
_Cause you channel all your pain_  
_And I can't help you fix yourself_  
_You're making me insane_  
_All I can say is_

_I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut_  
_My weakness is that I care too much_  
_And our scars remind us that the past is real_  
_I tear my heart open just to feel_

-x-

Chapter Eighteen

_*Sawyer*_

There is a exactly one hour break between my morning lectures and my next one, as I race towards the jeep I don't have time to think about who I might see at home. I slept the grand total of zero seconds last night and its now coming back to bite me, I piss my lecturers off enough without adding falling asleep in class to the list of my crimes.

Though I have a pretty fucking good excuse to be distracted today, after all it's not the norm to have everything you believed turned upside down. A million emotions have haunted me since overhearing my parents, and sure I am angry, I could probably kill a few people now but mostly I feel heartbroken.

What a waste, what a fucking waste. That's what I want to shout, that is what I blame my father for. I blame him, as I blamed her for so many years, because I missed out on so many years because of a lie. Not a lie perse, a misunderstanding. A bloody misunderstanding! I pushed Mom away because I believed she no longer wanted me, because I thought she couldn't love me like she loved her _real _children. And all this time… all this time she'd been fighting for me and I hadn't even known it.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the pain of being separated from them, while for three months Dad and I lived from motel to motel. Not one single phone call, not one single word, for three months. At first I waited, always waiting, every car that drove up I expected to be hers and then was disappointed when it wasn't, I stayed up late that first week thinking she would call to say goodnight yet Dad's phone remained silent and never rung. Now I can look back and wonder if he'd just switched it off or put it on silent, now looking back I realise that he could have easily been avoiding her instead of the other way.

By the end of those three months I stopped expecting anything, I stopped waiting and told myself I didn't care, I told myself if I wasn't her daughter then she wasn't my mother. I didn't have to listen to her; I didn't have to _love _her.

What I remember the most though is the look on her face when Dad finally took me home, how stilted she was, how afraid, I thought she was being cold, was she nervous instead, is my memory distorted because I believed in the wrong foundation? But I remember that look, the look I'll never forget, when she so gently took me in her arms and welcomed me home, when I had moved away from her touch and gave an offhand _"thanks, Brooke" _before going to my room and slamming the door behind me. When I had called her Brooke she'd flinched, as if I had taken hold of a knife and plunged it into her chest and twisted it for good measure. The sick thing is I had been happy with that flinch and I had continued to call her Brooke to her face long after she stopped flinching at the name.

That twisted logic. That twisted turn of events, how one simple change of facts changes _everything_. Years of bitterness because I though she rejected me when all along it's been me rejecting her.

When I see Brooke's car parked in the driveway I'm both happy and nervous, then slowly the fear breaks in. I'm not ready, I am nowhere near ready to face her, if I do I may just fall into her arms and cry and I refuse to let people see me like that, let alone her. So to avoid the possible run in I drive a few houses down and park my car, with years of experience of sneaking by the front of the house I make my way to the garage and the stairs that lead up to my loft.

Why is Mom even home, she should be with Keith at the hospital, and when she's not looking after Keith she's working, when those two options are out she's doing something else… saving the world or some shit. You never know with her.

With recent events I was certain Mom would be with Keith, yet here she is at home… why? Is she waiting for me?

My steps quicken on the stairs, I pull out my keys and go to unlock the door but it's open. I must have left it unlocked in my rush this morning, not giving it a thought I go inside and quickly lock up. I don't need anyone barging in on me; this has to be quick if I want to get back to class on time.

Once the last chain lock is in place I step away from the door and sigh as I look at the barrier between me and the outside world, my own little protection against the big bad world.

You would think I would know that I wasn't alone, I was distracted, tired, completely upset, so for a moment I didn't sense the presence behind me. When I did it was too late.

An arm snakes around me and his hand covers my mouth, the other one wraps around my middle and grabs my wrist. I suddenly feel Van's breath against me, he's drunk, probably half high as well, and I know straight away I don't have easy Van with me, I don't have amused Van with me and it sure as fuck isn't loving Van.

His hold tightens and I whimper as pain courses through my arm. The pressure in my wrists grows, an uncomfortable ache spreading all the way up. He starts to shush me and for some reason I do something against our routine, something I usually wouldn't actually do. I struggle.

That hand covering my mouth moves down until it's around my neck, he squeezes a little and my body sags as I begin to choke. Then as abruptly as he grabbed me he throws me to the ground, my wrists gets trapped under me and as skinny as I am my weight aggravates my newest injury.

When I roll over onto my back Van surges forward and straddles me and shoves at my chest so I fall back down, "you little bitch!" he hisses just before he punches me in the face.

A high Van shouldn't go near alcohol, it sends his cruel but usually controlled side wild, he's what you call a mean drunk, add whatever drugs are in his system and you just get dangerous not that he isn't normally dangerous. He is, that's what I liked about him… like… it's blurry at the moment as he slaps my cheek.

My cheekbone is throbbing, my ears ringing, but he stops and stares down at me and I just stare back. This is probably not the time to mention that he is half on my chest and the pressure on my lungs is making it really hard to breathe at the moment.

And then he gives me a disgusted look and gets up. I would laugh if I didn't think the move would kill me. He looks disgusted? What the fuck did I do?

"Problem?" I ask wiping my mouth, he likes spunk, I shouldn't have struggled but if I was too passive he'd just want to start all over again until he got a reaction. I'm usually more active in it, I usually enjoy it, it's like fucking foreplay to us but now it's different and I can't be bothered participating in these games today.

Besides he's never been… this before, well, maybe a few times if he gets pissed and drinks too much. I just wasn't expecting it right now.

"Problem?" he slurs and then he sighs, for a moment his face softens and he reaches out a hand to help me up, then he cups my chin and clicks his tongue, "why'd you do it, huh?" his voice is so soft, he's reprimanding me. His hold on my chin becomes slightly more rough and I glance away, he forces my face right near his, fingers digging into my skin, "you just left me here, alone, you just ran out" he whispers close enough I can literally taste his breath.

Realisation hits me. Yesterday I ditched Van after Mom came to get me. I had run out of the loft and away from Van without a thought, forgetting everything I left behind even including a pair of shoes. At the time I thought nothing of it, clearly Van didn't see it the same way.

"I'm sorry"

"Sorry isn't good enough" and one fingers softens and the tip runs down my cheek, a chill follows the path and runs down my spine. Every hair on my body rises to attention.

The fear causes my pulse to pick up, adrenaline enters my system and mixed in to all this are a few spare hormones. Not the time and place to most sane people but those people don't have the memories that I have of the two of us, they don't connect the cold chill with the heated passion. That when his hold tightens on me, when he grabs my wrists hard enough to bruise, or raises his voice with curses, memories connect it with sex.

Against my will my body reacts but its just a twinge, a very small twinge, it's one easily ignored because my body doesn't want that kind of pleasure at the moment, it knows it won't get the same relief it usually would. I'm closed off now it seems, even from this basic emotion.

"Don't do it again" his voice is too quiet, hard and pleading all at the same time, but I just can't give in.

If you were to believe the test results I am borderline genius, so my next move must seem pretty stupid. But what's the thrill if you never take risks.

I keep my voice uncaring, he can't touch my soul by touching my body, he can't control or reach me and I need him to know that, "I'll do what I like" and I am too focused staring down at him to hear what he hears, to recognise what he does.

If I had then I might not have said anything to him and I realise my mistake the second after his hands grab me, spins me around so my back is to his chest, and imprisons me with one arm around my middle and the other around my neck with his hand over my mouth again.

That's when I hear the footsteps coming up the stairs.

_No! _My mind screams, and my body fights, kicking I try to break free. I try to wrench my mouth away from his grip so I can scream out a warning. Van would never truly hurt me - I cannot say the same for anyone else when he's in this mood.

The steps get closer, my panic grows but this seems to excite Van, he chuckles in my ear and pushes me towards the door, "looks like we have a visitor, who could it be… mommy dearest maybe?"

I try to speak but it just comes out muffled.

Pushing me against the door Van unlocks one lock, a second later there's a soft knock and I hear Mom's voice.

"Sawyer?"

Van leans in closer to my ear and whispers so quietly even I can barely hear him, "she's a pretty little thing, maybe I should introduce myself" and he sounds so amused and I can't help but notice bitterly his words are no longer slurred.

I try to escape but Van just pushes me harder into the door, his erection pressing against my lower back, "shhh" he says in my ear, somehow stroking my blonde hair as he adds on "if you're a good little girl and do as I say mommy can just walk away and I won't punish her for taking you from me… now be quiet, we're not here remember"

Like a switch was turned off I stop fighting, my whole body freezes, and I wait for what seems like a millennium as Brooke waits outside my door.

"Sawyer… can we just talk…please?" her hand tries the door and I breathe a sigh of relief that I locked it behind me, "I'm here if you need me" she says and then there is silence but I know she hasn't gone, I can practically feel her waiting and hoping outside. I squeeze my eyes shut, _please just go, walk away, please Mom, just walk away, go, and go now._

And finally her footsteps retreat, relief pours through me. Thank the fucking gods.

When we're sure she's gone the hand that had been stroking my hair twists the length between his fingers and pulls my head back, then he slams it into the door while at the same time his hips move against me.

The arm that had been around me is now holding me in a totally different way, it seeks all the places it knows so well as Van starts to kiss his way down my neck, and I am still frozen. He holds one hand to my head so I don't move from my position as the rest of his body starts to be gentle in its attempt to coax me.

Any other time this pleasure pain thing would get me going, today I feel empty and dirty and disgusted with the both of us, so I remain frozen.

I stay like that the whole way through, I don't think he notices let alone cares, and when he shudders against me I let go of the breath I hadn't even realised I had been holding and feel a solitary tear run down my cheek.

For so long I've felt shut off from a part of myself, this was the only way I ever really felt anything at all and now that is closed up from me.

The thing is I think somehow the rest of the floodgate has let loose, and I'm not sure what to do with it all.

…

I'm going to be late for class. That is the thought that keeps going through my mind when I'm alone and getting myself ready all over again.

An unexpected shower wasn't on the rush agenda, neither was the make up job but I can't exactly go walking through Tree Hill or head to campus with a shiner fast appearing, stuff like that usually leads to questions and I can't exactly say "yeah so I have this sadistic boyfriend who I let throw me around a bit every now and then so he has trouble with the word no".

_No_. That word seems completely pointless when you've always said yes.

I apply the last of the concealer, not the best job but it should suffice for now. Next step on the list is wake myself up so I don't sleep through the day. Pulling a draw open I go through my belongings until I find the particular box I am looking for and take the lid off. I dip my finger into the white powder and then suck it off.

Great for an instant pick me up, and also a great dieting technique - not that I need it. I hear coffee does the first thing too.

I might try that someday.

…

After the lecture I'm late for I blow off the rest of the day, I just can't be fucked today so I head over to the river court and walk to the centre of the court. It's a nice day, the perfect amount of chill for my liking, enough to keep my nose pink.

I take my leather jacket of and fold it into a pillow before lying down on the concrete and resting the heel of my right boot atop the tip of my left one.

Then I light a joint and watch the smoke rise into the sky, putting it down for a second I grab my camera and set the shutter before aiming it up at the sky, zooming in I focus on the grey and white clouds above me and take the picture.

I hold my finger down too long, it's unneeded but I pause in the act anyway. Moving the camera to my stomach I just stare up at the sky, eventually I pick the joint up again, out of habit, out of something for sure.

How easy would it be to just float away, just float away and escape from it all?

Yeah, I scoffed at that one too.

…

It seemed like a good idea at the time… wow, that should be my motto, fits a lot of my fucked up decisions. Yeah, I'll just say 'seemed like a good idea at the time' and it'll explain everything.

But at the time going to the hospital did seem like a good idea, Keith has this crazy ability to just make everything else go away and with Mom at home and not at the hospital as if she's glued to it, it seemed like a really good idea.

The first sign it was a bad idea was the news vans, I walked by with my beanie and jacket kidding most of my features and overheard enough to hear the report was about my family.

Seems like the media finally got hold of the story that Brooke Davis Scott and Lucas Scott were being sued by their daughter while their son was in hospital. Fucking sick vultures, I hate when they hover around us as if our misery is entertainment to be shared around, yeah our family drama is so what families should be listening to together as they eat their perfect dinners in their perfect little homes with their perfect little children.

And if they are here they'll soon be parked at home if they aren't there by now. Just what I need.

Luckily our family has pull at the hospital, with how much money we've given to this place they should bloody name it after us, and that isn't even including the donations for research we give to them. This pretty much means we like own the place, or they treat us like we are frig'n royalty. The hospital wouldn't let the press inside and they'll keep the place safe, hell once before a doctor had to sneak us out in his car.

At home when they are practically camping on our lawn it's different, it is really hard to ignore, thankfully they usually don't stay long, but we've never had a court case to keep them interested before.

So you can imagine I am pretty pissed off as it is while I make my way to Keith's room, that's when I run into reason two for why this was a bad idea.

The second I turn the corner I regret it, or I don't, depending what happens next.

She stares at me, wide grey eyes full of shock and outrage and some other emotion I can't place and refuse to accept. Because this little bitch has no right to be here, she has no right to be upset or angry or anything, she has no right to step one foot in this hospital.

"Sawyer, is it true, is Abby really refusing to help Keith?" she doesn't even batt an eyelash, the fucking little prick.

I don't have to give her an answer; she sure as hell doesn't deserve one.

So I say nothing, I just glare at her, I communicate with my eyes she shouldn't be here and her own expression becomes blank and she takes a step back.

It's been a few months since I have seen Allie. She's changed, that I notice almost straight away, she's dyed her hair to its natural colour so it shines a light copper instead of its colourless black that I had connected with her. And her clothes are different, brighter and softer…

She could never wear short things, scars show too easily for that and as I look at her wrists I notice her tug her orange sleeves down.

When I answer it's not to help her, because she doesn't deserve it, I do it so it hurts her because a part of her must still care if she's here, though I don't give a shit about that because it doesn't matter considering everything. I lift my eyes to her, "yeah, it's true"

"She wouldn't do that, she can't do that!" a whisper, not even to me, she always speaks the worse things aloud when she's shocked.

I shrug, then begin to walk straight pass her "why-" I ask bitterly "that's what you did" but then I stop and turn back around, "you know what, Allie, you shouldn't be here"

Something in her eyes becomes harder, I've never seen that look on Allie's face before, there is a confidence she use to lack that is now making her stand straighter. I don't expect her to talk back either, but she does, "I just need to see him"

Everything inside me rejects it, like no way is that ever happening again "NO! Are you out of your fucking mind? I'm not letting you anywhere near my family ever again, ever!" and she looks at me with suddenly sad eyes, and I know exactly what she is feeling. She misses it all, she misses us and she misses him but it's too late "_you walked away_" I hiss at her. That should be enough and there is no better reason to keep her kicked out.

Allie nods but she then gives me the once over, her eyes searching every part of me, I hate it, I hate feeling her eyes on me as if she can see through my façade. Her eyes become sad again, and because she's pissing me off I hit out at her once more "so how's your happy new life going?" sarcasm dripping from my words.

Her lip twitches, "you should be more careful"

"What?" she's confusing me.

Her brow quirks, "it looks like you walked into a door" she says and what can I possibly shoot back at that, she shakes her head a little "eventually the pain isn't enough" and with her final words Allie turns around and walks back the way she came, back to the elevator and out of the hospital I presume.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

-x-

_I tried to help you once_  
_Against my own advice_  
_I saw you going down_  
_But you never realized_  
_That you're drowning in the water_  
_So I offered you my hand_  
_Compassions in my nature_  
_Tonight is our last stand_

__

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut  
My weakness is that I care too much  
And our scars remind us that the past is real  
I tear my heart open just to feel

_I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut  
My weakness is that I care too much  
And our scars remind us that the past is real  
I tear my heart open just to feel_

_- _Scars_, Papa Roach  
_


	19. I'd Come For You

**Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I do not own OTH, or My Sister's Keeper, or like anything.**

**Though this story holds darker themes such as substance abuse, violence and self harm, in no way do I recommend these as forms of coping or advertise them as lifestyle choices. These characters are purely fictional and it's just more fun in real life to eat ice cream or go talk to friends if you have problems, and if you have a boyfriend like Van, a little bit of kinky is alright, but for fuck sake call the cops and leave the bastard. **

**On a lighter note, oh look quick update, shocker. I hope this chapter answers a few questions about Allie. The fictional one.**

**Thanks again for your reviews, annie, alex, allie, eryn and dee. Love, Mickei. PS. Don't worry, the big sawyer/brooke thing will happen.**

_Just one more moment, that's all that's needed_

_Like wounded soldiers in need of healing_

_Time to be honest, this time I'm bleeding_

_Please don't dwell on it, cause I didn't mean it._

_I can't believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground_

_But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up, forgive me now_

_Everyday I spend away my souls inside out_

_Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now, somehow._

_By now you'd know that I'd come for you_

_No one but you, yes I'd come for you_

_But only if you told me to_

_And I'd fight for you_

_I'd lie, it's true_

_Give my life for you_

_You know I'd always come for you_

-x-

Chapter Nineteen

_*Allie* _

It took more out of me than I ever imagined, one second longer and I would have started shaking, I would have cried in front of Sawyer and everything I have worked hard for would be for nothing.

I've tried oh how I've tried to move on but it was hard, it still is hard and getting more so each day.

Turning the corner I keep my composure but the second those elevator doors close I slip along the back of the small enclosure until I am sitting on its floor with my arms around my knees. The tears fall unashamed, uncaring that it makes me look so weak.

Sawyer hates me, which means Abby and Keith must too and even if I deserve it, it still hurts to think that he hates me, not when it wasn't so long ago that Keith loved me more than anyone in this entire world.

That of course was before I cut them all out of my life. They saved me and they bit by bit destroyed me at the same time. It was easier before I cared so much before I had so much to lose.

Even now I want to escape the onslaught of emotions, every fibre of my being is resisting the urge I have to go to the closest private area, get the sharpest thing near me and cut my skin open til I bleed.

Oh, just thinking about that release makes the urge stronger but I bite my lip and continue to resist. It helps but it's like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.

There are three reasons why I cut and they probably wouldn't make sense to most people, Sawyer understood though and Keith did his best to stop me ever having to.

It's all about the numbness, to get rid of it or to get it back. When it's moments like this, when everything is so powerful and strong I can barely cope, when I need to calm down and find that numbness, it's like by cutting my flesh I am literally opening myself up, cutting an escape for all those emotions to just seep out of. That blood that bubbles up and runs down, that is the hate, the anger, the sadness, the grief, that is the pain and desperation. And for a little while I am free.

Other times, it's the opposite, Sawyer once said that feeling pain is better than feeling nothing. It lets you know you're still alive. For me, the pain isn't about knowing I'm still here, a tangible being breathing and existing, the pain is about the ability to feel something, _anything_, I know I'm alive, but I want to be more than simply that.

The third reason is blatantly simple, some days I just feel like punishing myself.

Right now I'm resisting the urge, my nails dig deeper into my flesh, a small release but I won't give in. I refuse to. How is my happy new life? Well, most of the scars are fading.

Some scars though will always stand out, no matter how pale the skin.

The elevator doors open and a doctor walks in, for the next ten minutes I ride the elevator not knowing when or where I want to get off, not knowing if I'm ready to leave quite yet. Others come off and on, no one speaks to me, and no one questions the red eyes. That's the thing about hospitals, nobody ever asks questions.

Most of the time.

…

The first time I met the Scott's was in this very hospital, I was still not use to it here being new to Tree Hill. My parents moved here because of the hospital and its experimental treatments with leukaemia, the best in the state they said and it had the advantage of the small town charm. As if that would mean something to me when they were taking me from the only home I had ever known, away from my school and my friends and the small security I had. I hated it on sight of course and I cursed them for bringing me here. Cancer had ruined my life and I didn't even have it.

I loved my little brother and watching him slowly suffer was painful but I was still young and selfish, I was angry and bitter. At the cancer for daring to hurt my brother, at my brother for possibly leaving me alone, and at my parents who had little time for me before it all started and who now seemingly ignored my existence. What I wanted never mattered, I couldn't make Zane healthy, I couldn't make my parents smile, and I couldn't do anything right, everything I did just made things worse.

So I took it out on myself and anybody or anything around me.

It was my second week in Tree Hill and after deciding to make my outer appearance match my inner emotions I was sporting dyed black hair and dark depressing clothes. My parents didn't even blink; my father had looked at me for a moment and asked if I had cut my hair. We were all at the hospital while Zane went through another round of chemo, I hated watching it so I had snuck off to go explore the halls that I would be spending a lot of time in.

I didn't get far before I found the vending machine and decided to get something to drink, only the thing wouldn't work, swearing I'd kicked it, inside my mind I was kicking something else entirely.

"How's that working for you?" an amused voice had cut in and I'd looked up to find a tall, skinny blonde girl a few years older than me leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Her narrow blue eyes looked me up and down as she smirked, "here kid let me help you" and she'd pushed herself off the wall and walked over to me.

"You have to double press it because it jams" and then she was handing me my drink, "you must be new here?"

I didn't need to say anything. She'd gotten herself a drink and touched a finger to her lip before stretching out, "sibling, right?" and continued to stare at me, then she looked around and tapped her lip again, "let me take a stab at it… cancer… about, what, six months?"

My mouth had dropped in shock, "how'd you know?"

She had chuckled, cracked her can and taken a long swallow before moving the can down and shaking her head, "damn it, she's good" was muttered and at the time I had no idea what she was going on about. Before my eyes she had pulled a flask out of her leather jacket and topped up her half empty can, when she noticed me watching she held the flask out and kinked her brow. I would be lying if I didn't consider it.

Instead a younger girl stepped out from around the corner and frowned, "_Sawyer!_"

"What?" The older blonde shot back innocently and placed the flask back.

The other girl stepped forward, "hi, I'm Abby and this is my sister Sawyer"

They didn't look much alike, Zane and I could be twins if not for the age difference and obvious gender issues, but Abby and Sawyer couldn't be more different. Sawyer was quite tall and looked like what my Mom would call a twig, her blonde hair was fair and her narrow eyes were a pale blue, she had a small nose which tilted up slightly and reminded me slightly of a puppy and her face was long with a strong jaw. Abby had a look of shortness about her, her long hair was that particular shade where it was hard to tell whether it was a dark blonde or a light brown, or simply a mix of both, and her eyes were big and she had a button nose, there was something rounder about her features, not just the face and nose but everything even her body that though slim just looked curvier than Sawyer could ever dream to be.

"Allie" I had told them, still uncertain about these strangers. They had smiled and there was a flicker of resemblance, they each had a dimple on their left cheek though Abby's was more pronounced and never really disappeared like Sawyer's.

They had taken me up to the zone, an area at the hospital designed for the patients and guests under twenty-one, and on the way they had shown me the ropes. From introducing me to various staff member, security guards included, giving me a tour of where to find the best vending machines, toilets and the cafeteria, to even showing me the quickest way to fresh air. Trust me that can be very important when you're in a hospital and the walls start closing in on you.

"So this is where all the cool people hang out" Sawyer had dryly held up her arms in the zone, then she's walked over to the pool table, "you play?"

Abby and Sawyer then proceeded to kick my ass at pool; actually they completely hustled me and took my allowance. It wasn't until another day that Abby told me how to pass the time while Keith was in hospital their mother taught them how to play pool, and here's a life tip – never bet against Brooke Scott. It was Brooke who had donated the table to the hospital, and I spent a lot of time up on that floor playing at that table with the Scott girls. Though that first time I didn't know what was going to happen, I didn't know we'd all become good friends.

When I was broke they took me back downstairs, my mood had slightly changed from that girl who'd been kicking a machine. In that time we'd chatted, mostly about crap but I'd learnt they had a brother Keith between them who had APL, which was the same type of cancer Zane was diagnosed with.

I wasn't prepared for meeting him though, how can anyone prepare for that, the moment your eyes connect with someone and you just know, deep inside, that that person is going to change your whole world.

It was another two weeks before I met Keith, Sawyer hadn't come that day because she was with her boyfriend and after getting with Van she stopped hanging around the hospital as much altogether. So Abby dragged me down, first she said hi to my parents who she'd run into before, then she had asked me if I wanted to meet her family.

Meeting Keith, I will never forget that moment. Abby's smile when she pulled me along to his bed where like my own brother he was getting chemo, seeing the pretty brunette woman reading by the bed, the woman I would soon learn was their mother Brooke. Then I had turned and time stopped, I can't exactly explain it.

At first I felt like someone had shifted the ground slightly from under me, but I could barely move as his eyes locked onto mine. That saying about getting lost in someone's eyes had always been just a saying to me, a line of fiction used in books or movies, but that was exactly what happened. I didn't even get a chance to see anything else about him, those eyes had locked onto me and that was it. They were the colour of muddy water except more… well… more beautiful, poetic, their green/brown orbs deep enough to just fall into.

I hadn't even realised Abby was talking until she repeated my name and nudged me, feeling embarrassed I had looked away from Keith's eyes and glanced at the others. They seemed unaware of my lapse, so I looked at Keith again. He was skinny and pale with a baldhead, where his skin wasn't white Keith looked bruised or red, and my heart had ached for him.

But then he had smiled and amongst everything that screamed death I saw something so alive and healthy about him, that sparkle in his eyes spread across his face as he smiled, two deep dimples appearing to frame it.

Then he'd held out his hand and I had stepped forward to take it, we didn't shake hands, the moment our fingers curled around each other we just held them in place between us, our eyes locking again. His smile softened, "hi" and the surprising warmth of his hand spread all the way to my heart with that one simple word.

Over the following weeks I grew closer to the Scott family, I also fell head over heels in love with Keith, and those weeks turned to months. Together we forced each other out of our shells, I did my best to remind him he was still alive and he gave me a reason to want to be still alive.

In that time Keith went into remission, his dark hair grew back curlier than ever, and we built hopes and dreams around each other.

I should have known then, from the very start, that the only way it could possibly end was with my heart broken.

…

Alone in the elevator I cry some more, unable to stop the river falling from my eyes, I don't know how long it can last, how much liquid could possibly be left in my body. It seems like I have a never-ending supply. I swipe at the tears, sniffling as I do.

The doors slide open again and this time I'm suddenly facing Lucas Scott, he looks shocked, not hostile if anything he gets that familiar broody look on his face and appears concerned, "Allie?"

I give a sad smile and nod.

"Are you okay?" and that is such a typical Scott move, one of the reasons why they are so addictive, because they _care_. No matter what is happening they always care about each other and others. They don't even seem to know how special that is, how I would kill to have that at home.

Again wiping at my eyes I say, "I'm fine" but for some reason I shake my head contradicting my words.

I feel completely stupid. Why did I think I could just come here and it would be fine, why did I think I could come here and _I'd_ be fine? I shouldn't have. "What am I doing here?" I mutter to myself.

He steps into the elevator and gently pulls me out, his long arms wrapping around me, "hey, it's okay" he whispers, words said to soothe but really have little meaning. Nobody can promise everything will be okay, hell if saying it could I should be saying it to him.

…

Back when it was all happening, when I was so absorbed in my first love, everything seemed perfect, nothing could possibly darken our worlds. Cancer, what was that? A stepping-stone, a way for fate to bring our two lives crashing together, it wouldn't matter in the end because Keith would get better, and he would beat it. Nothing else could happen, could it? No, because it was us.

And we could save each other.

The first time I knew he felt the same way about me was a month after that first meeting and we were alone together as Keith was having chemo. This particular day he wasn't coping well, it was barely ten minutes before he was throwing up, I'd sat there not wanting to watch, not because it sickened me but because I hated seeing Keith in pain.

So I read to him when Brooke went to the bathroom, picking up the story where she left off, stumbling over words but refusing to stop as Keith once again bent over the bowl in his arms. When he'd laid back down and closed his eyes I had put the book down and just looked at him, not even realising I had even stopped until he rolled his head to the side to look at me, "you don't have to stay if you don't want to, my mom will be back soon"

"I don't mind, I want to" I told him with a solemn face, my smile at this point was still hard to come by, but Keith had grinned and relaxed back down waiting for me to continue, so I did.

The next time he vomited I dropped the book and ran to his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and letting him half rest on me. When he finished Keith sagged against me, "I'm sorry"

"It's okay"

"No, it's not. Every time you see me I'm sick in a hospital bed" and to prove his point he started coughing.

"I like seeing you like this… I mean not like _this, _but I like seeing you, I mean – uh"

He'd chuckled, "I like seeing you too… maybe next time I see you it could be different, maybe somewhere else?"

"I'd like that" I'd answered just before Brooke returned and teased us mercilessly, we both had blushed but I didn't mind.

The next time I saw Keith wasn't at the hospital, and it was one of the best days of my life.

…

Having Lucas hug me is nice though uncomfortable, truth be told I never really got use to the whole affectionate thing. My family just never does that, I can count on one hand how many times my mother has hugged me and let me just say that I would have some spare fingers left over, and my father… well he's even worse. I got a high five once, back when I was like five. Some families just aren't the touchy feely sort. My parents believed their job was to make sure I had a good education and a nanny or housekeeper could supply anything else. We weren't rich and nowhere near touched the Scott's but we were what was called comfortable, comfortable enough that my parents were always able to work and my brother and I were watched by staff. That is until Zane got sick and they decided to play the parents, to one of us at least.

Before I met Keith and his family the only person to ever really show me any sort of affectionate love was my little brother, and even then our relationship couldn't hold a candle to that of _them_. Zane's mission in life was to annoy me, we fought from the moment he was able to steal my toys.

I pull away from Lucas and wipe at my eyes even though I'm no longer crying, "I'm fine, really" and just by the look Lucas sends me I know he doesn't believe me.

His voice is quiet; he genuinely cares "how are things at home?"

"The same" I give a cynical chuckle, if anyone knows what we've been through its this man because he's going through the same thing, "it pretty much blows" nothing has changed except for me and sometimes I wonder if changing would do anything because I still pretty much hated my life. Wiping my eyes again I ask, "you?"

Lucas' lip curls up, "yeah" is all he says, and it says it all. It pretty much blows.

My life was meant to be… easier, less painful, I don't know, it made sense at the time, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight. I thought I could just put it behind me, everyone goes through that first heartbreak but I was lying to myself.

It's impossible not to care, it's impossible not to think about him, it's impossible to stay away, and I can fight it but eventually I was always going to give in.

The second I heard Keith was back in hospital I knew I had to come, and when I heard the news about Abby and what she was doing it was like someone had punched their fist through my chest, grabbed my heart and squeezed a little. I hadn't spoken a word but inside I started to scream in denial.

I'm not being dramatic here, it happened just like that.

I think I'm still in shock.

That's why I had to come here, I needed to see him, touch him and feel his heart beating under my lips.

Sawyer would kill me but I had to try, "can I… can I… see him?" the words come out in a stutter but Lucas' eyes soften, he nods "of course" and I wonder just how much he knows, I wonder if he has any idea what I did. They are so secretive sometimes, like their own little club.

For a while I got to be a part of that.

…

"Okay" Sawyer had turned to us one day as we sunbaked in the spot by the river we called our own, "we're stuck in a burning building, all about to fry our asses and you can only save one of us, who is it?" she'd been wearing her bikini and was stretched out over a rock.

Abby had been on the rope swing kicking herself against the rocks but at the question she held her feet down, "who would you save?" she shot back at Sawyer. The older girl shrugged, "myself I guess"

We had all laughed, and then Sawyer had said "no, seriously? You have to answer the question"

We had all looked at each other, smiling I think because we sorta knew the answer, then Tyler had stood up from where he'd been floating below us and shaken the water out of his dark hair, "just wait, is my guitar part of the equation because that's like an extension of my soul?"

"No, dumb ass" Sawyer threw a nearby stick at him and Ty lunged forward, pulling himself up onto the rocks he grabbed Sawyer by the wrists and dragged her into the water screaming with him.

It was just another summer day for us, lazing around by the river talking about everything and nothing. Keith's colour was good that day, I remember running my hands along his bare chest and comparing our skin tones that weren't that different anymore. As Sawyer and Ty had splashed in the water I snuggled against Keith, my arms wrapped around him as he gently stroked the bare skin of my upper arm. From habit I had tensed, he'd sensed it and looked at me oddly before realising he'd been tracing the pale silver lines that go across my skin, "its all right" he'd whispered and sitting up he's leant down and kissed them, "I just wish I could make you happy enough"

"You do" I whispered back and grabbed his hands, "you have no idea how much"

That was the first time he told me he loved me, crashing my cheeks between his hands he's looked deep into my eyes "I love you"

And I started to smile like a stupid kid, "I love you too" and then he's kissed me, a bone-melting kiss.

"I guess we don't have to ask them their answer" Abby had grinned and let go of the rope to splash into the water, the splash interrupted the moment and Keith and I quickly pulled away as we became drenched.

"And they say blood is thicker than water" Sawyer had dryly commented, and then Ty had put a finger on his chin "well if I had to pick between my three favourite cousins and Keith's little girlfriend I'd def go for… hmmm, well… no one!" he splashed us all again.

And we all knew he didn't mean he wouldn't save us, wrapping an arm around both Sawyer and Abby Ty added "all or none of us"

"We stick together" Keith smiled and then took my hand and kissed it before leading me down to the bank of the river.

All or none of us, and where are we now?

…

Lucas leads me to Keith's room and I'm not surprised to find Sawyer missing, though it's odd to see Keith's bedside so empty.

"He's asleep" Lucas tells me when I freeze in the doorway. All I have to do is walk in, just walk in and face him, "I'll go" Lucas says and I feel his presence behind me leave.

For a while longer I just continue to stare at the still figure on the bed and then as my heart beats faster I step forward, the step after that is easier and each one after that is even easier until I'm practically running.

Unable to stop I grab one of his hands and hold it between both of mine like I've done so many other times in the past. It feels good.

"Hey" I whisper, lifting his hand to kiss it, "I'm here"

Then I watch as his eyes slowly flutter open, at first he smiles and his eyes light up and it feels like coming home. This is where I belong. I smile back.

In the next second his eyes clear and the smile slowly falls, before my eyes I watch the joy leave his, and instead they fill with despair and guilt.

Clutching his hand tighter my smile tightens, "it's all right" and I have no idea what I'm condoning.

Am I seeing my expression reflected in his eyes? Or is there something else?

Is he saying sorry that he's dying, apologising for Abby stepping away from that silent promise we'd all made like I once did?

I'm not sure, so I cradle his hand against my lips and say it again "it's all right"

I don't expect Keith to rip his hand from my grip, I sit back in shock as he closes his eyes and turns his face from me, "_go_" he whispers but I can't move.

"GO!" he screams this time and his arm moves out to knock over the vase by his bed, I jump and step away from the chair, "JUST LEAVE!"

I start to shake, "Keith, please"

"GO!" he screams even louder, his voice hoarse and I run, I run as fast as I can, out of the room and down the hall.

I almost knock Lucas over but I don't stop, I keep running, I almost fall but I get my balance back and fly into the elevator just before the doors shut. Flinging myself into the corner I back away from the others, I try to get as far away from that room.

What must I look like, a fifteen-year-old girl crying her eyes out in the corner of a hospital elevator, but like I said - most of the time they don't ask questions.

When the doors open on the bottom floor I start running again, I wish I could be running to him but instead I'm running away, again, but this time it's because he no longer wants me.

-x-

_I was blindfolded, but now I'm seeing_

_My mind was closing, now I'm believing_

_I finally know what just what it means to let someone in_

_To see the side of me that no one does or ever will_

_So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone_

_I'd search forever just to bring you home_

_Here and now, this I vow_

_By now you'd know that I'd come for you_

_No one but you, yes I'd come for you_

_But only if you told me to_

_And I'd fight for you_

_I'd lie, it's true_

_Give my life for you_

_You know I'd always come for you_

_You know I'd always come for you_

_No matter what gets in my way_

_As long as there's still life in me_

_No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you_

_Yes I'd come for you, no one but you_

_Yes I'd come for you_

_But only if you told me to_

_And I'd fight for you_

_I'd lie, it's true_

_Give my life for you_

_You know I'd always come for you_

_No matter what gets in my way_

_As long as there's still life in me_

_No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you_

_ I'd crawl across this world for you_

_Do anything you want me to_

_No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you_

_You know I'll always come for you_

- I'd Come For You, _Nickelback_


	20. Stop and Stare

**Gotta keep this quick because I've got a screaming toddler on my hands but thankyou to all those who reviewed ect, I own nothing, hope you enjoy. later**

_This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us  
It's time to make our move, I'm shakin off the rust  
I've got my heart set on anywhere but here  
I'm staring down myself, counting up the years  
Steady hands, just take the wheel...  
And every glance is killing me  
Time to make one last appeal... for the life I lead_

Stop and stare  
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere  
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared  
But I've become what I can't be, oh  
Stop and stare  
You start to wonder why you're 'here' not there  
And you'd give anything to get what's fair  
But fair ain't what you really need  
Oh, can u see what I see  


-x-

_Chapter Twenty_

*_Abby*_

At school I'm not the most popular, I get along fine with everyone and they aren't mean or anything, it's just I keep to myself. I sit with the same group every lunch, it's a large one full of it's own little mini groups so it's easy to just fade into if you're not in the mood to talk, and when you are it's just as easy to fall into a loud conversation. Usually I stick closest to Hannah and Will. Hannah is a sporty and rambunctious girl in my class who plays soccer to my basketball, and is from a big family, she keeps us all entertained with her tales of getting revenge on her twin brother and the lengths she'll take to get her hands on a mango. Will is the youngest of four boys, all who have grown to become Ravens, and he's on my basketball team and never likes to keep still. They're best friends, I'm cool with that because outside of school and sports my group of friends revolves around my family, so I don't mind feeling a bit like an outsider here.

Usually I don't mind.

Today I don't just feel like an outsider, I feel like I've been captured and locked up and put on display. Everywhere I go people stare at me and the whispers follow me. I hear what they say, these people who don't know my situation, or me, the ones who judge as if they have a right, so I lower my head and pretend I don't notice the stares or the words. It's hard _not _to notice though, and it causes an ache inside me.

I've never felt so lonely as I do today, Hannah and Will avoid meeting my eyes in class and even the teachers seem to be avoiding me. I walk through the halls with my books held tightly in my arms, hugging them to my chest, my chin down, all the way to my locker the eyes follow me. When I unlock it I stare into the cramped area and take a much-needed breath, it feels like my lungs have gotten suddenly too big for my chest.

"Everyone's talking about you" A voice says next to me, I can't see Hannah because she stands the opposite side of the locker door and I have no desire to change that fact. I sigh. This is just great. She waits for a moment and then she says "they're saying all sort of things, stuff like your brother needs a kidney and you won't give it to him, that you are like suing your parents or something"

Letting go of my books I slam the locker shut and turn to look at Hannah, she just stares at me for a moment and then she straightens up, "I wonder what's for lunch today" and she begins to walk away. I follow her with my eyes and she turns back when I don't move, "you coming?"

She's so blasé about it that I can't help being shocked, for a second I can't even think about taking one step and then I rush forward to join her side, immediately Hannah loops our arms together like we've done in the past.

"You know what I feel like?" and before I can even answer she says "Something sweet, a-"

"Mango?" I cut in quietly, she winks at me and our steps quicken.

"You read my mind," she says and I just shake my head. I forget sometimes, my family is so _there_ I forget they aren't the only ones I have to lean on.

It's a nice feeling.

…

My day doesn't get easier, I want to crawl into a ball and just disappear, I don't know how my parents deal with the attention they get, knowing people judge them when they don't even _know _them. I hate it. I feel violated somehow.

It's just not fair but I can't say that, if I did it would make me appear like some little kid having a tantrum and that is far from what I'm doing.

For some reason I never really thought about everyone else finding out about what was happening, so focused on my family's reaction it never crossed my mind there was an entire world out there that would care. If that is even the right word to use.

"I don't know why she won't give her brother a kidney, it's not like she has a heart" a girl in front of me says to her friend, clearly not caring her response was loud enough for nearly the whole class to hear.

I glare at the back of her head and when the eraser makes contact for a second I'm not even sure it wasn't me who threw the object, and then I hear Hannah speak "shut it, Barbie"

"What? I'm not the one killing my brother, heartless much" Kat shoots back not even daring to look me in the eye before spinning back to the front of the class.

I just can't take it anymore, pushing my chair back I grab my bag and run out as fast as I can, I can hear a set of feet following me.

"Abby!" Hannah calls after me and I stop to face her, tears streaming down my face, ashamed I wipe at them, "ignore that bitch"

"But that's what everyone's thinking" I scream back and then I shake my head, spinning back around I run as if demons are chasing me and I guess in a way they are. This time no one follows me.

Throwing the nearest bathroom door open I run into the closest stall and lock the door, before sitting down and putting my head between my knees. This is what I am reduced to.

When I have no more tears to shed I lean my head back against the wall and look up at the ceiling, I might as well get comfortable, I don't plan on going back to class. Call me a chicken; I just can't face the stares anymore.

I can barely face my own doubt, let alone all theirs.

It would be so simple to wish it all back, but how far back do I go? This has been coming from the beginning, eventually someone was going to have to stop it all. That person has to be me.

…

It was a never ending circle, Keith gets sick, Keith gets treatment, Keith recovers, and then it starts over again. I remember the last time he came out of remission, it was nearly two years ago, I was ten, and we were all starting to get use to the way things were, and by that I mean safe and relatively healthy. Keith was regularly going to school, Sawyer was between her… antics? And I was throwing myself into my basketball and Dad even had the time to be my team's coach. Mom didn't look like she was walking death and most mornings we woke to her and Dad laughing, she worked more but she wasn't as stressed as before or rushed, she could do it as she pleased and take time off to spend with us because she was ahead for once. All in all we were relaxing, slowly coming to believe everything was going to be okay. I guess that made the inevitable fall even harder.

When they came home from the doctors I didn't notice anything at first, they were quiet but I was distracted. Sawyer could tell, I should have known by the sudden tension that filled my sister, I should have known when she slammed her door in my face and told me to go away, and then the next day Dad got Uncle Nathan to take over practice, even then it didn't click. All the other kids had been nagging us to get Uncle Nathan to coach us at least once, the big ex NBA star teaching them his tips. In Tree Hill Nathan Scott is a local hero, when he retired from his basketball career he opened the Scott Rehabilitation and Recreation Centre, though kept alive by a healthy dose of donations the Scott family was the main benefactor. It has some of the best physiotherapist in the country and helps athletes from around America recover from their injuries, as well supplying a place for local teens to hang out and train, the number of teens Uncle Nathan has helped through the programs ran by SRRC is countless. So it wasn't until after practice that it all started to click into place. I'd jogged up to the front porch and stopped, Sawyer stood leaning over the rail, a cigarette in her mouth, she'd glanced at me and I saw the tears, Sawyer _doesn't _cry, she yells or she kicks out, or she goes cold. The blood inside my veins froze, a chill running down my spine, and as I stood there Sawyer glanced away, dropped the half gone cigarette into the rose bush and started to walk away, down the path, in the opposite direction of our home, her words had reached me and I will never forget the way she said them, they were something that didn't need to be spoken, "prepare yourself"

Inside the house was silent, too silent, never a good thing. I found dad in the kitchen staring at the fridge, his expression heartbreakingly blank, and I knew then what it meant.

My reaction was to run, I ran up the stairs searching for something to tell me it wasn't right, that I was wrong, at the top of the stairs a let go of the ball in my hand and as I raced for my parents room I could hear the thump, thump, thump, as the basketball fell from step to step, that final thump came as I stopped at the open doorway of my parents bathroom.

She stood, her shoulders slightly lower than normal, staring into the mirror at the reflection, to this day I don't know what she was seeing, but I knew she'd been crying but once she saw me behind her not one more tear fell from my mothers eyes. She'd span around, her posture gave off that she was in control, which was pointless because one look at her eyes and you knew right away she was lost. And then she gave a shaky smile, one that gave false hope that everything was going to be okay, false because there is nothing true about hope. Hope is a wish, a dream, the thing you have when everything else is telling you to give up.

"Hey" she had stepped forward, "we need to talk"

"It's back?" I had asked, not wanting to hear the words, not wanting to hear whatever explanation my parents could come up with.

I felt like a failure, I felt my world crashing around me. This wasn't meant to happen, how come nothing we ever do is ever _enough_? Why must we suffer over and over again?

There were too many questions with no answers.

…

It is a never ending circle. I stand up and make my way over to the mirrors, my face staring back at me amongst the graffiti. I still feel like that girl from that day, and looking at my own reflection I see everything I feel stamped on my face. I don't know how Mom does it; I wish I could have her grace, her strength.

All I see is kid, alone, scared, heartbroken, lost… guilty, and I know that is exactly what everyone else sees.

…

If I wanted I could leave, I could call Sawyer or maybe even Ty, I'm pretty sure Dad would pick me up too, but something stops me. Instead I go to my next class and then my next, I even make it through lunch, it gets easier as time goes by but I would be lying if I said I wasn't waiting impatiently for that last siren.

In the end I don't have to wait that long, fifteen minutes before the school day ends there is a knock at the door and the teacher calls me to the principal's office, she tells me to take my bag. I highly doubt that I can get suspended over what has happened yet there is still this irrational part of me that considers it and isn't exactly unhappy at the thought. The looks follow me until the teacher shuts the door between us.

By the time I reach the principal's office my thoughts are more in place, this won't be about what is happening in my personal life, and then I open the door and see Sam waiting for me.

"Abby, I'm here to bail you out" she grins.

I look to the principal who frowns, "uh…" is all I can say.

"Just kidding, your mother has sent me to pick you up early so we can have that talk" she's overly cheerful in a dry wit sort of way, it reminds me of Sawyer when she loosens up, if only I didn't know she was lying out of her teacher-slash-guardian-ad-litem-slash-whatever-else-she-is behind.

"Right?" I say almost cringing at how doubtful that sounded.

"Well, we'll be off" Sam places a hand on my shoulder and starts to lead me away.

Leaning in closer I whisper, "so what is really going on?"

She takes a loud breath before getting out "the story has hit the media and your mom doesn't think it's safe for you to walk or to go straight home and my car won't be linked with your family"

I say the first thing that comes to my mind, "how did she get your number?"

"You know what, I didn't ask"

We didn't say anything else at the school but Sam winked at me as we zoomed out of the teachers parking just as a news van joined the other one waiting outside the school.

…

She asks me where I want to go, I want to go home, I want to see my family because unlike a lot of the kids in my class I enjoy spending time with mine. I like talking with my sister, playing pool with my mom, basketball with my dad or reading with my brother, and I can do all that in the place I call home… or the hospital now I think about it, but beside the point. It's just at the moment home is the last place I can go to so other than the hospital I say the next best thing.

The river.

We stop off and pick her daughter up from school first, Elena isn't shy around me and she fills the silence of the car ride.

I don't take her to the spot that is just ours, where I spent so many days with the others instead we walk along the bank with our shoes in our hands. I kick the sand as I go. Elena is a few metres ahead of us, laughing as she skips and spins with little care.

Sam asks question after question, some are obvious while others seem almost random, and some are small while others are way too deep, but I answer each one as best I can.

There is just so much I can't say so I find myself stopping a lot and restarting.

"So what do you guys do as a family?" Sam asks after nearly two hours.

Tracing a long stick in the sand I send her a quick glance, "what do you mean?"

"What does your family do together?" she repeats.

"Stuff" I shrug.

"Can you add a few adjectives to _stuff_?"

"Lots of stuff" I smile, the stick swishes through the air as I whip it by my side, "I guess sports, Dad and Uncle Nate are pretty into teaching us sports, they take us to the SRRC courts to watch the games"

"You spend a lot of time with your dad?"

My dad has always been there for me, since I was just a little girl I've known he would take on the world for me, but it's more than that, sometimes when I'm with dad I can just feel that we are a part of each other. We don't need words. I have that with mom but not like I do with dad, it's kind of funny because Sawyer use to have that with mom, or that is how I remember it. There was a connection there that went beyond blood, and if Sawyer weren't so damn stubborn she'd realise that it still does.

"He's my _dad_" I shoot back as if it is obvious, like duh, "I kind of live with him it so we run into each other sometimes" I shrug.

"Wow, aren't you full of witty comebacks"

"I do my best" and I throw the stick aside and turn around to walk backwards, Sam is smiling and she rolls her eyes.

It's another long moment before she asks too casually, "and your mom?"

"Yeah I live with her too" I purposely misunderstand her, she gives a little chuckle and I continue "she believes that a family should spend time together, there are rules, like dinner is served at-"

"Seven o'clock on the dot" she cuts in and I grin and nod, Sam quickly takes a few steps forward so we're more to the side of each other "breakfast too if things are the same" and for the next few minutes we're silent. I'm sure she's doing the same thing I am – remembering.

The hugs, the teasing, her putting me on her feet and teaching me how to dance, the first time I was allowed to use her makeup, the hours spent perfecting my pool shot, singing off tune to the latest pop song as it plays on the radio and so much more. Days, months, years worth of memories, so many I can't count them, if I spread them out I think they would be endless flashes of my family and at the centre of them are always my parents because they are rarely apart.

Eventually Sam asks another question, "and your brother, how does he fit into your family?"

Where to start?

…

One night when I was six I was woken by a shake of the shoulder and the whisper of my name repeated over and over again. My room was pitch black except for where Keith stood, a torch in his hands, "come on, little sis" he said the moment my eyes opened.

"What?"

"Hurry" he'd pulled my blankets off me and threw my jacket on top of me and when I slipped it on he handed me my boots. "What are we doing?"

"We're going on an adventure"

"At twelve o'clock?" I'd asked too loudly looking at the clock we passed even though I couldn't tell the time yet, it was dark and bedtime so I made a guess.

"It's a secret, our secret" was all he said before leading me out the back. Keith had dragged me to the trampoline and then started crawling under it. It was cold, wet and dark, and I didn't give following him a second thought.

Under the trampoline with the torch propped up we sat with our legs crossed, Keith pulled out of his bag a small toy shovel from my sandpit and started digging a hole, then he pulled out a box and opened it up. It was empty, an old cartoon lunchbox he no longer used, but before my eyes he started filling it.

"This is our treasure box, so you'll remember me when I'm gone"

"Where you going?" I'd asked, still too young to fully understand death, and Keith had given a little pout.

He'd paused what he was doing, "I'm not sure yet, far away maybe" he'd frowned, thinking hard and then started putting the box together. In went his favourite toy, photos, the book Mom gave him for Christmas, the mini basketball Dad had given him when he was born, piece after piece of his life. And then he grabbed something else, "that's my Barbie!" I had protested, reaching out for it but Keith had pulled it to his chest.

"Can I have it?"

It was my turn to pout, "why?"

"So I don't get lonely"

"Aw, I guess" but I'd pouted until I was back in bed. The last thing Keith did was put in a note, "it's for you, but you can't read it, not til I'm gone" and then he'd put on the lid, sticky taped it up and then put it into a plastic bag. Then with my help Keith buried it.

"Promise" Keith had demanded, I had nodded and looped my pinkie with the one he held out, "best friends don't break promises" he'd told me.

We crawled back out and went inside again, the next morning I hid my dirty clothes in the washing basket and though Mom never questioned it she sent us strange looks that day.

After that night we never talked about it, if it wasn't for those stained clothes I probably wouldn't believe it ever happened, but ever since whenever I wake up in the middle of the night I think back to that box, sitting under the trampoline in the darkness with my best friend and brother. I didn't understand it at the time, it was a lot of broken nights later that I finally realised what it meant. Even then Keith made sure he would get to say goodbye. We were just kids, that box is rotten now and I will never know what words were written on that note though something tells me I already know.

…

Avoiding the question I start talking about anything but Keith, there is so much to say but like that note it will never be shared.

…

My mother calls me at six thirty, she asks me how my school day was first and I lie and tell her it was great, then Mom tells me to be home for dinner which I'm taking as _it's safe to come home now_. There's an awkward pause and I know she wants to know how things went with Sam but instead she tells me she loves me and says she'll see me soon.

In front of the house Sam stops the car, "it was nice talking to you" she says and I look between her and the front door.

"You wanna come in?"

With a smile she shakes her head, "maybe another time"

"Kay, bye Sam, bye Elena"

Sam twists to look at her daughter, "say bye"

"Bye Abby" Elena calls loudly waving wildly, she's still calling bye until I'm at the front door and the car is practically halfway down the street.

The cars parked tell me we have visitors, Gran as well as Aunt Haley, maybe even the rest of them. So when I walk inside it's to a very warm, chatter filled home, dinner is already being served and our table is full. They welcome me as if it's any other day of any other week, and I'm sat between Ty and Uncle Nathan, it might be surprising to some but there is no awkward conversation, it flows between us all. The only time it does go quiet is when I ask about Sawyer, Dad says she must be busy but both him and mom look worried. It's not the first time she's skipped out though and she always comes back. That's what family is, it's home, it's the place you return to over and over again.

Still surrounded by them all I feel like a fake, who am I? How can I sit here when I'm going behind all their backs?

And then I get back to that question, who am I? And my mind wanders to what Sam asked, where does Keith fit, and right now I'm wondering where _I _fit. Do I even fit without Keith?

Can I go through with this?

Do I want to?

How can I answer all the questions that others ask when I can't even answer my own?

They circle in my mind, like an accusation screaming at me.

…

After dinner I manage to escape, I don't go to my room; instead I hide in Keith's and sit on his bed with his pillow to my chest hugging it to me.

His room overlooks the back, I can see the trampoline standing tall, its rarely used anymore and rusted but it stays as a reminder of our childhood, of all the happy times flying in the air, for me it is a reminder of something else.

Unable to face it I close my eyes and lay down. I'm not sure I can do this anymore.

"You okay?" the question shocks me, not so much that is was asked or that someone had come looking, it was the who that was unexpected.

I open my eyes and roll my head to the side so I can see Ty standing at the door, his pale blue gaze looks right through me, those Scott eyes can read me so well. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me, is it what I see in my reflection, is it something else, worse or better?

More questions, always more questions.

"I've been better," I answer truthfully, and then I hiccup and quickly look away.

I know I can't do this anymore.

-x-

_They're tryin to come back, all my senses push  
Un-tie the weight bags, I never thought I could...  
Steady feet, don't fail me now  
Gonna run till you can't walk  
But something pulls my focus out  
And I'm standing down..._

Stop and stare  
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere  
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared  
But I've become what I can't be, oh  
Stop and stare  
You start to wonder why you're here not there  
And you'd give anything to get what's fair  
But fair ain't what you really need  
Oh, you don't need

What u need, what u need...

Stop and stare  
I think I'm moving but I go nowhere  
Yeah I know that everyone gets scared  
But I've become what I can't be  
Oh, do u see what I see...

- Stop and Stare, _One Republic_


	21. The End Where I Begin

**Disclaimer: yeah, I don't own One Tree Hill or My Sisters Keeper, and to my everlasting regret I don't own Jensen Ackles, if I did season 8 of OTH would get hot for Brooke. Just saying.**

**So I think some people missed last chapter because the hits are like non existant compared to the previous chapters, so just a warning in case you did miss Abby's previous pov to go back and read that first. And I'm gonna be kind and blame that for the reason I only got TWO reviews last chapter, two, heartbreaking. Luckily I really really really want to write next chapter so I went ahead and wrote this one out anyway. So thanks to alex and allie for their continued support, and to those who favourited the story. Later.**

_Sometimes tears say all there is to say  
Sometime your first scars wont ever fade, away  
Tried to break my heart  
Well it's broke  
Tried to hang me high  
Well I'm choked  
Wanted rain on me  
Well I'm soaked  
Soaked to the skin_

It's the end where I begin  
It's the end where I begin

Sometimes we don't learn from our mistakes  
Sometimes we've no choice but to walk away, away  
Tried to break my heart  
Well it's broke  
Tried to hang me high  
Well I'm choked  
Wanted rain on me  
Well I'm soaked  
Soaked to the skin

It's the end where I begin  
It's the end where I begin  


-x-

Chapter Twenty-One

_*Julian*_

"He called again," Kerri tells me the second I walk by her desk, she gets up and follows me, a folder in her hand. I keep my back to her and my guard up, the tightening in my jaw is the only outer sign how much her words affect me, instead I strut into my office and over to my chair, "keep telling him I'm busy"

With my back still to her I can feel her eyes staring at me, she sighs loudly, yes that is disapproval I hear. Pretending to be searching for a book on the shelf behind my desk I don't turn around, neither do I hear Kerri leaving my office.

"Problem?" I ask slightly turning towards her, enough to see through the corner of my eye she's holding the folder by her hip.

Her heels are tapping on the wooden floors, "your father-"

I laugh.

"-Is not going to just go away"

"History proves different" I say slowly, it comes out almost like a whistle, closing the book I hadn't even noticed I opened I slipped it back into its place and turned around more composed, "so did he leave another message?"

"The same as the last...oh… four, he wants you to call him" and Kerri's lips suddenly disappeared, she shakes her head at me, "Julian, please, just do something about it because I can't keep holding him off"

"I can't help being busy, I have a very time consuming job" and my mind goes back to my childhood, hell, my whole relationship with my father, when he was too busy to find time for me.

_Not now Julian, I am a very busy man, later_. His voice comes back to me, he always told the truth in one respect, he was a busy man, and lied in the other – later never came.

Lifting my brow I make sure my voice is uncaring with a hint of humour, "anything else?"

Taking a few steps forward Kerri throw the files onto my desk, "the paper work you requested" and spins around.

"Kerri?"

She stops and slowly turns, "yes, Julian"

"Can you get me Arthur Belmont's number and a coffee" and I know there's more bite in my tone that usual but talk of my father always puts me on edge, I stopped looking for his approval when I left the movie business and I haven't looked back since. I got plain sick and tired of waiting for that later, I had to grow up and realise our relationship was never going to be what I wanted. And now I have no problem forcing him to wait in the wings where he'd put me for so long.

With a nod she quickly leaves my office, closing the door with more force than needed, I let go of a tense breath and let it go. Sitting down in my chair I allow my shoulders to sag as I rest my elbows onto the desk.

Let him wait, let him wonder, let him beg. I am no longer that curly haired kid searching for warmth in cold eyes, and just hearing his name, just thinking about him, brings back way too many memories. I know I'm trying to convince myself more than anyone else that he doesn't matter anymore.

The door to my office opening abruptly interrupts my thoughts and my head snaps up "Kerri, what have-" and I stop, my mouth hanging open.

Sam breezes into the room, looking like she's done this a million times before as she wears that smart ass smirk bordering into a grin and holding a coffee in each hand.

I quickly close my mouth, how charming I must look, and run a hand through my messy hair, did I shave this morning? _Julian_, my mind screams as if some invisible conscience is rolling its eyes at me.

"For you" Sam places one Styrofoam cup in front of me before taking one of the opposite seats and putting down her own, she leans back into the chair, crosses her legs and smoothes a jacket onto her lap, I quickly tear my eyes away from her all too aware that I was close to staring.

"What are you doing here?"

"I owed you a coffee" she replies offhand and then something plops next to me and I look up again, my jacket is now in front of me and her lap is bare. The jacket I'd left at her place the night before, I gulp. Not knowing exactly what I'm acknowledging I say "thank you"

"Your welcome" she replies and the room becomes silent.

I can't look at her, not because I don't want to but because I _do _want to. The guilt eats away inside me, "about last night-" I begin but she cuts in.

"Forget it" Sam says quickly and then she's getting up and leaving just as suddenly as she appeared.

I push my chair back and stand, "Sam!" I call out before I even know what I'm going to say and when she looks back patiently for more I'm at a loss.

_Don't go_, I want to say those two words, I want to tell her to stay but I can't so I say nothing, the seconds tick by and I know she's growing impatient, so I quickly glance around until my eyes fall to the coffee she'd brought me, "is that all you came for?" I ask.

Then I look back up, shadows are under her eyes and I wonder if she had trouble sleeping too. For a long moment we just look at each other neither of us blinking and then she narrows her eyes sadly, "what else is there" and turns back around and walks out of the office. I continue to stand there, motionless, long after she leaves.

And I can't help but think her answer was just another question, one I'm not ready to answer.

Because there is only one thing I could say, _more. _There's more and we both know I'm not willing to admit that.

….

The day had started quiet, a small court appearance in the morning, some paperwork with a few appointments thrown in to keep me busy leading up to the afternoon, and I was grateful for any distraction that kept my mind away from Sam and her earlier visit. Kerri isn't happy with me, the way she says 'Mr Baker' is telling enough, she thinks I am becoming heartless but I ignore her colder attitude and keep my mind on my work and every time the phone rings I pause for a second.

When I return from my business lunch I can't help but notice how frantic Kerri looks while she handles the phone, while I stand ignored by her I watch her handle three phone calls in the same way. Right after the other, each time she listens and then gives an apology stating I am out of the office and unable to comment. Just as the phone rings a fourth time I step directly in front of her, looking right at me Kerri tells the caller that I'm unavailable.

"Who is it?" I mouth.

She hangs up and sighs, she looks more frazzled then I have ever seen her, "it's been crazy, completely crazy" and she sends me a pleading look when the phone starts to ring again, "there's been news stations, radio stations, reporters of all kind, one after the other!" her arms fly into the air.

"Abby?" I immediately ask and I can't stop the worrying from overtaking me, I barely know the girl but I find myself invested in her life. I made myself a promise, I'm going to help Abby if it's the last thing I do. Pointing at Kerri I walk backwards towards my office door, "just keep doing what you're doing, keep saying no comment" and she nods before picking up the still ringing phone.

My quiet day has just had the volume turned up.

It continues like this for the next hour, from my office it's a dull buzzing as I go through another appointment, when I lead my client out I stop by the reception desk as Kerri hangs up from another phone call, it rings straight away and she sighs. The anger inside me boils up and I reach over and grab the phone before Kerri cam, bring it to my ear I give a curt "fuck off!" the swear word slipping from between my lips as if I use it everyday which couldn't be further from the truth.

There is a brief pause and then the breathing on the other side stops and a raspy voice comes over "uh… okay… sorry" sounding confused and taken back.

"Brooke?" I turn my back to Kerri, "don't hang up. I apologise, I thought you were someone else"

"You sure?" she still sounds confused, it is not like I have been very welcoming to her, or her me for that matter.

"Yes" and I'm also curious to know why she called, "was there something you needed?" it is my turn to be confused.

Brooke goes silent for a while and I know she's nervous when she finally speaks again, "actually… look, don't wor-ah-it's about Sam"

"Sam?" do I sound guilty? I send Kerri a quick glance but she's just staring at me with her normal curious expression, I smile awkwardly, "what bout her?" I ask Brooke while I loosen my shirt. Kerri's eyes narrow so I turn my back on her again.

God, did Sam say something?

"Is there any chance you have her number?" Brooke instead asks and I am so relieved that she's not about to give me a lecture. I quickly give Brooke the information and the conversation ends.

It's not until I'm back in my office that I go over the phone call in my head and am shocked to realise how we had so little to say to each other. Is that all we have become to each other, after what we went through all those years ago? And then it hits me how the pain I had connected with Brooke had been absent from the quick phone call. The anger hadn't been there, or the regrets, there had been no memories, no anguish, no flashes of insecurity, it was as if I'd completely forgotten that at one point she'd been the most important person in my life.

It feels strange, for some reason I feel lighter.

And then I remember her daughter, Abby with her face that is an echo of her mothers, that same vulnerability in the eyes, that same fearless determination as she wears her heart on her sleeve.

If there is one thing I can't forget, it is the reason why Sam and Brooke are both back in my life. This case. So I put the two women from my past temporarily at the back of my mind and continue my job.

…

"There has to be a precedent" the muttered words fill the room, time has slipped by me and I grow more frustrated, rubbing my eyes I lean back and the clock grabs my attention. When did it get so late?

The sky is growing darker outside and there is no light shining from the bottom of the door, I can't remember how long ago Kerri left but the coffee she last gave me is cold.

From behind the door there is a shuffle of feet, "Kerri?" I call out, standing, perhaps she didn't leave. I stand up, "you there because I could really use another coffee, do you want me to grab you one" I'm walking towards the door but before my hand reaches the doorknob its gone from under me and I side step to avoid being hit by the door as it opens.

"Hello son"

My heart stops. It has been nearly two years since we've stood across from each other and I'm not prepared for this.

"Dad" I say, gulping. I expect him to give me his cursory look over where he judges me lacking in someway but instead he continues to look at my face, I am surprised about how old he looks, his grey hair is no longer the salt and pepper silver and black, the dark grey is now mostly white, his eyes appear paler, his cheeks sag and his slim body is now just skinny. He no longer looks formidable; he looks like an old man tired and weak.

"You look good", he says as his eyes soak me in without moving from my face. I can't reply. Finally he looks behind me, "may I come in?"

"I was just about to leave" I say quickly and block his way, something flashes in his eyes, I refuse to believe it was pain, "what are you doing here?" anger hovers in my voice.

I can't mistake the sadness that now takes over his expression, "I wanted to see my son, it has been too long"

"That has never bothered you before" I spit out and step forward forcing him out of my office. One light sends a small orange glow out strong enough that we can see each other clearly, "again, what are you doing here?"

"What choice did I have, you refuse my calls-"

"I've been busy"

My father just looks at me for a moment and the lie hovers between us, he sighs, "I'm sorry"

"That's nice, mind explaining why you are apologizing because I'm telling you this 'emotion' thing you are trying, it doesn't suit you" I spit back after a slight pause. What is going on?

Again that flash appears in his eyes, I've never seen my father like this, so _humble. _Paul Norris didn't show weakness, or emotion, he sure as hell didn't play the role of humble father.

He goes to touch me and I step back, his hand falls to his side and then he begins to speak, "I'm sorry for all the times I said I was too busy, I'm sorry I missed out on your childhood, for pushing you so far away you stopped wanting to get close, most of all I'm sorry I never told you how I felt-"

Unable to process what is happening I grasp to make sense of the situation "Are you dying?" I ask harshly.

"No" he says in disbelief and his whole body seems to straighten up, finally I see something of the father I know, "then what is this scene for because it sounds oddly like the last scene of the movie where the neglectful father pours out his heart and is forgiven just before he dies"

"I assure you I am not _dying_" he takes a breathe, "though recently I have discovered something that has made me rethink a lot of my choices, including how I've treated you, believe me Julian when I say I never intended to be the type of father I was… am…"

Protecting my heart I smile, "great, now you can go knowing you said what you had to" and I start to walk around my father, thankful that my keys and wallet are in the jacket I'm wearing. I'm not really caring about the fact I left my office light on and my desk a mess.

His voice stops me, "I love you, son"

In all my years I've never heard those words from the man who fathered me, again I freeze, unable to move I can't turn around.

"I never said those words to you enough, or how proud I am about everything you've achieved and for that I am most sorry"

You never said them at all! I want to say, I don't. Not too long ago I would have killed to hear his approval, love and pride in me, now I feel like they are empty words spoken too late.

Looking down at my feet I speak back without turning, "and why the sudden need to share this now?"

If he wasn't dying what could drive my father to seek me out like this, out of all the things I imagined I never expected what he says next.

…

Just before seven I find myself at Sam's door again, this time with a pizza balanced in one hand and a four pack of beer under the other arm. She answers almost straight away and her smile is hesitant, "Julian?"

"I owed you a beer" I hold up the bottles and her expression softens, she opens the door wider and steps aside. It still has that homey feeling to it and smells delicious, I see the pot on the stove and grimace, I don't even need to say anything, Sam turns the stove off, covers the pots and her eyes sparkle when she looks at me, "I can reheat"

"You don't have to" I shake my head, put the beers down on the coffee table and turn around, "maybe I shouldn't have come"

"Why did you?" her voice makes me turn back.

Because I was feeling lost and for some reason I needed to come here to make sense of things, though now I am once again standing inside her home things are just as confusing, "I don't know" I tell her.

"I _love _pizza" she smiles and walks back around, she's still wearing her shirt from earlier but her jacket is missing and she's wearing a pair of boxers instead. I look away and hold out the box "I hope it's still your favourite"

Sam takes the pizza and sneaks a peek before placing it onto the coffee table as well, "Elle, dinners ready" she calls out loudly. Little feet start pounding down the hallway and a moment later Elena stops in the doorway; she looks at Sam and then me, "hello"

"Elena, this is my friend Julian, he's bought us dinner-" before Sam can finish Elena runs over to us, "PIZZA! I _love _pizza" the little girl squeals and grabs a piece.

We both chuckle at her glee. Sam kinks her brow "now you _have _to stay" and quickly takes a seat on the couch. The same couch from the night before, I stand in the same spot for a second and then slowly sit down as well. It surprised me how not awkward it all was as the three of us sat down and casually ate dinner.

Elena keeps us laughing and then moans in complaint when Sam tells her its time for her bath, "oh man, do I got to?"

"Yes" Sam pokes out her tongue and leaves us to go run the bath, as she walks off she calls out "_and _its _have _to, not got to"

Still munching on a piece of crust Elena eyes me above her food, "are you Mom's new boyfriend?" and then brushes the crumbs away from her mouth before taking a sip of her juice.

I almost choke, "we're old friends"

"How come I never saw you before?" her eyes narrow.

I lean forward, "you saw me last night" I point out and the little girl huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Right" Sam walks back into the room clapping her hands, "nearly ready, come on li'l bit"

Jumping up Elena almost spills her juice but I move it out of the way, she bounces over to her mother and Sam picks her up, over Sam's shoulder Elena gives me a hard look "don't go, you promised to tell me about the movie biz"

"I'll stay right here", I promise and the two of them vanish.

Alone I get up and wander over to the stereo and change the CD, soon Sam comes back "you done already?" I ask.

"She likes to remind me she's a big girl now" Sam tells me and walks closer, she turns the volume up slightly and our close proximity starts to make me feel a little too warm, I take a step back. Sam watches me carefully, "you want to tell me why you really came over?" and she looks at me as if she can see right through me.

Looking down at my feet I frown, "ever feel like it just gets too much?"

"All the time" she laughs, "that's life"

"I found out something today and it changes things, I don't want it to but it does and now… I don't know" I look up and she's watching me with sympathy, her soft face beckons me closer. Sam reaches out a hand and places it on my shoulder, as we stare at each other her hand slides down my arm.

She blinks, those brown orbs watching me carefully, "whatever it is, and it's going to be okay"

And I find myself trusting her; I think in this moment I would believe anything she says.

I take another step closer, the gap between us all but disappearing, and I know the second her breath catches and then the moment is gone.

Elena's voice comes screaming towards us, "I'm ready!" and Sam quickly pulls away from me, brushes her hair behind her ear and looks away, "I better go to her" she says and quickly walks off. I look at the stereo and notice that we're up to the fourth song.

…

I've never been seen Sam so skittish before but when Elle comes out to say goodnight Sam doesn't meet my eye and when her daughter takes my hand and demands I read her a bedtime story Sam blushes and follows behind us.

It is odd, strange… different, a million words could describe the feelings flowing inside me but as weird as it may feel it somehow feels right. There's a comfort to the warmth of the situation, while I read Elena her story and she looks at me from sleepy eyes with Sam standing just behind her. I can _feel _her smile, I can feel her heart from where I am. It's disconcerting yet it _fits_. It feels like a family, I've never had this I realise as I get to the end and pause on that last sentence before reading it aloud, "and they live happily ever after" and as I say them Elena whispers them and her eyes open is a sudden moment of awareness. She smiles and I smile back. I envy this child.

Sam breaks the moment and leans forward to kiss Elena and as she stand back up she takes the book from my hand and puts it back, "goodnight, Elle"

"Night, Mom"

And then the girl sits up and I find myself being hugged, I'm frozen and then slowly I wrap my much larger arms around her small body that smells like strawberries. A warm feeling slides down my body, a protectiveness, something that cries _mine_. Then she places a wet kiss on my cheek "Night, Julian" and lies back down, her eyes screwed shut.

Sam switches the lamp off and takes my hand forcing me to get up, like a zombie I leave the room with her, "I…uh-" the words fall form my lips, her hand still holds mine and she turns to look at me when we are finally back in the living room and those words, that thought, whatever it was, they fade away. My heart skips a beat then thumps inside my chest so loudly I think she must surely be able to hear it, my arm tingles from where she touches me, it is like a drum call, getting louder and louder. And there it is again, crawling its way into my mind and my heart.

_Mine_.

Something in her eyes seems to recognise it, she mouth parts and a for a moment she looks terrified, Sam lets go of me and takes three quick steps backwards, "Julian" she whispers.

It sounds like a promise to me, a caress of the soul.

_Mine_.

That same fear from last night comes to me only ten times worse, I want to close my eyes and run away but I can't. It is like watching a car accident, I can see it happening, can already hear the collision, feel the pain, but I can't look away. I can't swerve.

Then like a car beeping uts horn the ring of my phone brings my attention back into focus, back to the real world. Sam's gaze darkens and she doesn't break eye contact as I search desperately for my phone to answer it.

"Hello?"

The only answer I get is heavy breathing, "hello?" I ask again and this time I hear tears, "who is this?"

"_I can't do it_" I don't understand the reply, the words are so broken, so quiet, they make no sense at first but I can just make them out the second time.

Looking at Sam I frown, "Abby?" I ask and Sam quickly comes to my side, "slow down" I instruct as the girl's rambling gets worse.

"What do you mean you can't do it?"

"_I don't want to, make it stop, just make it STOP!_"

My head can't get around it, it is all too much too fast, "breathe Abby, just breathe… look, I'm coming now, I'll be at your place soon and we can talk about it but I need you to calm down"

Sam is looking more and more worried.

Over the line Abby seems to completely change, attitude fills her voice when she flings out a stern "NO!" and then that same brokenness comes back, "you can't come here, they can't find out. Please, just make it stop, just stop it, I can't lose him, I can't, I know I'm selfish but I can't" and the rambling returns.

"You are not selfish" I tell her but she keeps on talking, keeps on telling me I can't go to her but I'm already at the door, I'm already running down the steps to my car, my keys are out, "I'm on my way" I tell her.

Behind me Sam still follows my movements and every word I say, I unlock the door and slide into the drivers seat, Sam holds the door open so I can't shut it and looks at me as she waits.

Abby is still rambling but it sounds like she's finally coming to her senses, I can hear someone in the background telling her to calm down, telling her to not give up, the words are a blur and the voice is one I don't know, but then I hear Abby "no…you can't come hear, aren't you listening, they can never find out, it will kill them, please, just forget this" and then she's gone and there's a click as she hangs up. I stare at the screen for a moment and then drop my phone onto the seat next to me.

"What was that?" Sam asks.

Still confused U just shake my head, "I don't know" I can't hold onto any of the ideas that run through my mind and looking at Sam reminds me once again of Abby, and the laws that stand between us all. I can't talk to Sam about this case, not like this, "I have to go" I say instead.

She nods in understanding and shuts the door for me.

The whole way home Abby is on my mind, every moment we've spent together flashes in my mind, every word, every look, it comes back. I knew she had doubts, I had known it from the beginning but she kept saying this is what she wanted.

Stop. The command spreads through my body and I pull over to the side of the road and think it over.

I'm suddenly back in the Scott house and I hear Sam asking Abby if it is still what she wants, and my mind replays Abby's response.

"I haven't changed my mind"

And then I go back to that first meeting, not the words, but the glimpse I caught of her before the elevator whisked her away. _For a girl who is supposedly getting what she wanted Abby doesn't seem happy._ That had crossed my mind then and it crosses my mind now. When has Abby said straight out she wanted this case? I go over everything again and the answer stares straight at me. She dodged it every single time anyone asked her, she always answered but never with a real answer. Never a yes, never a no, accept on the phone.

"_I don't want to_"

Abby Scott has been almost a puppet her whole life. I thought she was finally making a stand and I had wanted to help her, now I wonder instead just who is pulling the strings this time.

-x-

_Now I'm alive  
and my ghosts are gone  
I've shed all the pain  
I've been holding on  
The cure for a heart  
Is to move along, is to move along  
So move along_

What don't kill a heart  
Only makes it strong

Sometimes tears say all there is to say  
Sometime your first scars dont ever fade, away  
Tried to break my heart  
Well it's broke  
Tried to hang me high  
Well I'm choked  
Wanted rain on me  
Well I'm soaked  
Soaked to the skin

It's the end  
End where I begin  
It's the end  
End where I begin

Sometimes we don't learn from our mistakes  
Sometimes we've no choice but to walk away, away

The End Where I Begin, _The Script_

**So next chapter, I'm torn, should I do a Keith pov? Should I keep him a mystery, have it a one off, or bring him full into the circle of povs? What do ya think? **


	22. Angels on the Moon

**Disclaimer: I still don't own OTH or My Sisters Keeper, or, sorry D, Jensen Ackles, but don't get your hopes up he's not coming into this chapter either. It's just a shame I don't own him.**

**Okay this chapter is short but I hope it gets the point across, I was practically jumping to do a Keith chapter to this song. Anyway enjoy.**

_Do you dream that the world will know your name,_  
_So tell me your name_  
_And do you care, about all the little things,_  
_Or anything at all (anything at all),_

_I wanna feel all the chemicals inside,_  
_I wanna feel (I wanna feel),_  
_I wanna sunburn just to know that I'm alive,_  
_To know I'm alive (to know if I'm alive),_

_Don't tell me if I'm dying,_  
_Cause I don't wanna know,_  
_If I can't see the sun,_  
_Maybe I should go,_  
_Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,_  
_Of angels on the moon,_  
_Where everyone you know,_  
_Never leaves too soon_

_Do you believe in the day that you were born,_  
_Tell me do you believe,_  
_And do you know that every day's the first of the rest of your life,_

_Don't tell me if I'm dying,_  
_Cause I don't wanna know,_  
_If I can't see the sun,_  
_Maybe I should go,_  
_Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,_  
_Of angels on the moon,_  
_Where everyone you know,_  
_Never leaves too soon,_

_-x-_

Chapter Twenty-Two

_*Keith*_

… _Four months ago…_

You never quite expect it no matter how much warning you get, the shock hits you, the disbelief. For a split second you think it's impossible, that there must be some mistake. And then it flows through you, the sad acceptance that it is in fact real and tomorrow you'll wake up again and forget for a second until it rushes back. It will happen more than once, sometimes you'll remember half way through a thought or sentence and you stop and have to come to grips with it all over again. Grief is a never-ending circle. A darkness always there at the edge of your vision.

The thing that happens is you never get use to it; perhaps that is why it always hits so hard no matter how you pretend it doesn't.

They want you to have optimism, hope… they want you to believe you won't be next but each time someone else goes you wonder. Will it be me? Will it be my friend? You look at all the faces around you, you wonder which one will disappear, you wonder if it should be you, and always there are the ones around us. The ones with the fear in their eyes that someone they love will be next, the hope that it won't come to that and as cruel as it may seem there is a relief that this time it wasn't the persons hand they are now holding.

For me I'm not sure how to feel, what to think, this time I was truly unprepared. Never have I lost someone so close to me, it makes all the other times seem insignificant and no life should be that.

Going in and out of hospital I have watched others weaken until their bodies give out, I have noticed when someone stops returning for treatment, it is a part of my life. Never though have I called that person friend, never have I had to hold the grieving family in my arms unable to make the pain go away.

Zane was a part of Allie, he had her eyes, he had her laugh, I'd sat next to him, I had played games with him and now that small boy is just gone. How? How can he just be _gone_?

There are whispers, no one is talking too loudly about it, nobody wants to.

They all react slightly different but since we found out Abby has been even more clingy than usual. She's been sleeping in my bed, which she hasn't done since I was diagnosed again and Mom is hovering more too. I can barely find time to think by myself.

Sawyer is talking to me more, she keeps asking me how I am feeling, and she looks at me like I may vanish at any moment too. They are all so careful, all so careful to avoid thinking let alone saying that it could have been me.

All I can think is, it shouldn't have been him.

…

I run a hand through my curls, I am still getting use to having them back, it feels strange, and smoothing them back into place I check my reflection. It looks _too _perfect, I look too perfect, I've managed to grow an inch over the summer, I'm no longer bone thin, colour is back in my face, and I'm dressed in a Clothes FOR Bro's suit that was literally designed for me. I abandon the tie and swap the white shirt for the black one, after buttoning the cuffs I walk downstairs.

When my parents see me a small light appears in their eyes, that light is the part of them that is relieved, the part of them that is thanking god I am walking down the stairs alive and well.

"You ready?" Mom asks.

I can't speak so I nod and take the last few steps. Dad places a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me he's sorry and then Mom hugs me, when I am free from their touch they no longer have that light in their eyes. It has now been hidden dutifully behind all the other emotions.

This is a sad day; none of us can forget that because it _could _have been our family. And the biggest part of us wouldn't wish it on anybody.

…

It's a small service, the air is thick, the sun is high, and the church is filled with this suppressed tension. Everyone here feels it, they feel the wrongness. The only sound that interrupts the service is the cries. They are quiet and coming from Allie's mother, a woman who usually shows little emotion.

I sit with my family but my heart is with Allie, I keep my eyes on the back of her hair that is the same black as the jacket she wears. The realisation makes me flinch, I don't need to think hard to know what that hides in this heat, and now my heart aches even more.

When they move to the cemetery to lower the casket in Zane's final resting place I move to the front to stand by Allie, her head lowers and her eyes shut. Her expression reminds me of when my mother has one of her migraines only worse. My hand reaches for hers, I hold onto her but then she wiggles her hand and pulls it free snatching it back to her side. Allie doesn't look at me but she moves a step to the side, a step away from me.

It feels like miles.

…

You can't help but wonder about it. What is death like? Where do you go? Can you feel or is it an eternity of thought? Are we judged, does that judgement lead to heaven or hell?

When you know you're dying what happens next can be your biggest fear or your biggest comfort. Years ago my father read me Peter Pan, I remember thinking that I agreed with the immortal boy, to die would be an awfully big adventure. I tried not to be scared though a lot of the time I was. I was never ready to leave my family and my home, I wouldn't know anyone in heaven and it sounded lonely.

Other times I thought maybe death was like the end of the world, after all doesn't the universes existence rely on us? Every object, every person, animal, or plant we meet, are they not just a series of images, textures, smells, that we process. When we stop, when our bodies die and we no longer feel or think the world vanishes.

I guess it is a good thing none of us know what happens next.

…

The wake is slightly different to the burial, there are less tears and more laughter, I've seen the switch happen before. It is when everyone remembers the good times and the alcohol helps numb the pain for most but still the grief is in everyone's eyes.

The shadow is darker in their parents eyes and in Allie's, she doesn't laugh, she doesn't cry, she just sits staring off into space with a blank expression on her face. We all sit around her but she doesn't seem to notice. Tyler looks at me and I just shake my head, we can't help her, we can't fix this.

I want to try, I want to wrap her up and take her far away from all the pain and confusion. She won't let me, Allie won't let me touch her and she won't look at me. I think a part of her has already escaped somewhere by herself.

…

I'm the first to break away from the group, if it had been any other time I would go have a rest, I'm tired, I can't think properly and the dull pain in my abdomen is getting worse. I can't say anything, this isn't the time or place, and so I make my excuses and go to the bathroom. My steps quicken, I need to be alone now.

There is a bathroom upstairs away form the crowd, I know exactly how far it is and it is too far, I don't even have time to shut the door, I just run and barely make it to the toilet before I'm retching.

My breakfast is gone.

It's all I can hear, over and over again.

When it is over I close my eyes and rest against the cool tiles of the floor, right now I wish I could escape.

The outer door shutting gets my attention and I open my eyes to see Allie standing there, my mind flashes back to the day I first asked Allie out. This time she's not helping me, she's looking at me with a fear I've never seen before.

"Allie" I say her name softly and get up but the moment I step towards her she steps backwards, when I go to touch her she flinches, "hey, just let me hold you" but when I say it she finally looks at me and tears fall from her eyes.

"Don't" the one word slashes through me.

"Al-"

"I c-c-can't do this again, I c-c-can't watch you die too"

It stings as if she has slapped me but I can feel her pain too, I just want to be there for her, I just want to tell her I love her and I'm not going anywhere. She shakes her head and holds her hand up, as if she could my mind Allie stumbles over her words "don't make promises you can't keep"

"I'm here now" I say instead.

She backs up again, "you're here _now_, you're here now that is the problem, you're here and I'm here and it's _killing _me, because one day you're gonna go too and what do we do then?"

She's too busy yelling at me to notice I've walked to her, "you get to just go and we're left behind broken, don't you get it, losing Zane almost destroyed me!" and I pull her into my arms, her cries muffled against my chest. Her head starts shaking against me,  
"NO", she pulls away but my hands are holding her wrist as she hits my chest "_I won't watch you die_" I pull her back to me and she breaks down in my arms, her body becomes a dead weight and we sink to the floor.

It always comes back to that one word, that one question. Why?

…

It wasn't until I was eight that I fully understood our situation – _my _situation. Death, what was that, when on TV people die all the time and come back. I didn't understand that it was unusual and not normal to spend so much time at a hospital.

I also knew that the reason why I was alive was because my little sister had saved my life, I didn't understand it at first. It took a long time for me to figure everything out. I remember one night I got out of bed and stood next to Abby's and watched her sleep. We may not look alike but inside we were the same, it had to do with having the same Mom and Dad, and it meant that we could share things. Things I needed. I couldn't quite understand it all, how a part of her was inside of me and that parts of her were what kept me around. That they had her because of me, back then I couldn't tell if it was to save me or just in case they needed a replacement. Staring down at her I had been scared, angry, confused. What did this mean? Did it mean that without her I don't exist?

So I knew from an early age it all depended on Abby, that she had my very life in her hands. I never worried so much about that because there isn't anybody else I trust more, not then and not now. I can trust Abby because inside we're the same.

…

"I'm sorry" I say over and over again, Allie clings to me, and I am so sorry because I know that I'm causing her pain when that is the last thing I want. I am not blind.

Losing Zane almost destroyed Allie meanwhile I am slowly destroying my own family. Every one of them suffers because of me and now I'm hurting Allie too. I see it all and in return it eats away at me. There is so much guilt, they would be the first ones to tell me not to be so stupid but I can't stop feeling like I am the stormy cloud hovering above my family and they are all just waiting for me to break and fall on top of them.

"I'm sorry" I squeeze my eyes shut and grip her hair into my fingers, I never want to let go, "I'm sorry"

She hiccups, her body jerks with the movement and slowly she pulls away and we look at one another. I would say she's calmer but I know from the look in her eyes she has just given up. Acceptance is not peace.

Gently she touches my cheek, I turn it into her palm so she cups my face and I close my eyes to get rid of that look, instead I focus on the feel of her fingers against my skin.

"No, I'm sorry" she whispers and then I feel her lips against my nose, the quick is over before it has began, "I can't do this anymore"

"Don't go" I choke out as I feel her fingers slip away from my face, when only cool air caresses me I open my eyes. Still on my knees I look up at her as she retreats from the room. Allie just shakes her head, "I _can't _do this anymore, I can't stand the waiting and not knowing, the false hope, smiling when all I want to do is cry… I love you too much to watch you die" and her whole face crumples up.

Then why are you leaving me? My heart begs. If you love me you won't walk away. She can't, I tell myself as I don't move and even as she walks away I don't believe what she is doing.

And then she's gone and I'm alone, my legs give out and I fall back to sit on my legs.

_No_. But the command doesn't pass my lips; they part but just breath escapes.

I don't know how much time passes but when I look back up Abby is in the doorway where Allie had not long left me by, and she's looking at me with such sympathy. I wonder how much she heard, and as I look deeper into her eyes I know she heard everything.

Yet it's the other thing that grabs my attention, I see the truth in her eyes. The exact same look Allie gave me, but I knew that already. It just never really hit me how much I am destroying them. I use to wonder what my life would be like if Abby was never born, I now wonder what their lives would be like if I was never here.

Allie was right; it all was such false hope. Pleading with my sister I look at her, barely able to contain my pain, my hands hang limply beside me but I manage to say what I want to say.

"_It never stops_"

And I don't know how long any of us can keep going. I'm tired. So tired of hanging on, I've spent years going through the motions and on the days it gets too much, when I feel so sick every breath hurts I tell myself to keep going, just one more day, and then the next and the next, I pull myself up, I force myself to eat, I weep in shame as my family is forced to care for me, because I tell myself no matter what, no matter how tired I am I have to keep going _for them_.

But it never stops, and it never will.

Abby's hand touches my shoulder, she grips onto me, and that touch joins us but we're already so entwined with each other. That is how it has always been for as long as either one of us can remember, there is an invisible cord tying us together, reminding us every day without words that we only exist because of each other. Would it all stop if I cut it? What if I break the pattern?

I break it and things will change.

_Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. _

The words of Invictus come to me as I make up my mind, the poem whispered from a long ago memory.

I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.

-x-

_This is to one last day in the shadows,_  
_And to know a brothers love,_  
_This is to New York City angels,_  
_And the rivers of our blood,_  
_This is to all of us,_  
_To all of us,_

_Don't tell me if I'm dying,_  
_Cause I don't wanna know,_  
_If I can't see the sun,_  
_Maybe I should go,_  
_Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,_  
_Of angels on the moon,_  
_Where everyone you know,_  
_Never leaves too soon,_

_Yeah you can tell me,_  
_All your thoughts about the stars,_  
_That fill polluted skies,_  
_And show me where you run to,_  
_When no one's left to take your side_  
_But don't tell me where the road ends,_  
_Cause I just don't wanna know,_  
_No, I just don't wanna know,_

_Don't tell me if I'm dying,_  
_Don't tell me if I'm dying._

- Angels on the Moon, _Thriving Ivory_

**Thoughts?**

**Okay six reviews, that's slightly better, so a big thanks to othlvr16, Mel, Allie, haleydavisbaker, Alex, and D. Mel you were the only one who said to keep Keith a mystery, I was digging it too, but I wrote it anyway I'm thinking of not doing any current Keith POVs though, does that sound cool? And I'm totally going to enjoy writing Sam and Julian, even though it creeps some ppl out, I mean ppl write wincest fics now THAT is wrong, really seriously what six months of this guy dating Sam's foster mother when she never spent even a year with Brooke, and there's probably not even ten ears between them, there are worse couples to ship. Example leyton or brulian in season 7. But I'm glad those who review are open to it. **

**But as it is the two fics im working on are coming towards their end, so this is the time when I really decide how things are gonna go, so if you have complaints, ideas, or anything like that this is the time to say it before its too late and I wrap it all up in my head with no if or buts about it. And because its all so nearly neatly done in my head, its just a matter of writing it down, so no pressure but the more reviews, the more I want to write the next chapters and wow quick updates happen more often. Hint hint to all those who read and never review :P which I must admit I am guilty of myself a lot. Anyway, have a great weekend and hope you are all well. Luv, Mickei B.**


	23. Move Along

**Disclaimer: I don't own season 7 of oth on dvd, not sure if I even ever plan to. And I sure as hell don't own any rights to the show or anything, hell I would be ashamed to, seriously, brulian, don't make me vomit. Give me samulian over that shit any day.**

**First off thanks to othlvr16, mel, othfan326, arubagirl0926, juicetroop82, babyd21, and realluvalways (missed ya rece), for your reviews. Okay I get the feeling more bl is wanted so I'm working on that and plan to devote a chapter just to them as a break form the drama, first off I'm gonna sort out a few other things first. Like um, the whole Sawyer/Brooke thing, very soon. Later, mickei.**

_Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking_

_When you fall everyone stands_

_Another day and you've had your fill of sinking_

_With the life held in your…_

_Hands are shaking cold_

_These hands are meant to hold_

_Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong_

_Move along, move along like I know you do_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along just to make it through_

_Move along_

_Move along_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Three

_*Abby_*

There was a time when I was a little girl when I believed anything was possible, when magic existed without question, and I trusted what those around me said. Santa Clause existed because my father took me to see him every year, mermaids were out there because my mother read me 'The Little Mermaid' before I went to sleep, such trust children have in the world and the adults around them. How easy it is to spin a web of lies.

For years I use to watch the light hit the dust, amazed as they glowed and twinkled, floating in the air, to me though they were flying and I tried to catch them. I never could, they were too fast. In my innocence I believed those little flecks of dust were fairies, and I could stare at them for what seemed like hours wondering what they were thinking, where they were going, why they wouldn't ever talk to me. Sawyer and Keith were the ones who span that story, and it was Ty who eventually clued me in.

The world just didn't seem so magical after that. I guess everything has an explanation, numbers and equations and reasons to sap the mystery and wonder of it all. Still sometimes I like to stare at the dust as the sun catches them and sets them afire, I watch the way they flit in the air and pretend that they could be fairies. Maybe reason is wrong?

Keith's bedroom window is directly in line with the rising sun; I can already hear the birds and the rustle of voices and feet around the house but I ignore it and just stare at those dust fairies.

"Should we wake her?" I hear my dad's voice at the doorway and I quickly shut my eyes and try to regulate my breathing.

There's a pause before my mom answers, I can tell she's half smiling "no, let her sleep some more" and then they are gone and I'm alone. Slowly I open my eyes again.

Being in Keith's room makes me feel somehow safer, as if by being in here I have Keith right next to me telling me what to do, helping me think about it all. Keith doesn't say much but he just has a way to make it all make sense. His room gives me that same feeling. It smells like him, and his shelves of books stand there in their neat order, everything has its place in Keith's room. When I'm in here I feel like I have a place to belong too.

It still feels sort of weird though, being in here without Keith. I half expect him to appear with his sunny smile and kind eyes, he'll sit down beside me, search into my soul and say something like _"you know what to do"_ because he knows what I'm thinking before I do most of the time.

Except I don't know what to do, I have no idea what is right and wrong anymore. I feel like I'm the queen on a chessboard and it's checkmate, no matter what move I make someone's going to come and knock me off.

…

After my shower I tiptoe down the stairs, my sneakers carried in one hand. I can hear the muffled voices of my parents, and then my mothers sudden laughter, I peek into the kitchen to see Dad whispering into her neck as her laughter becomes a giggle. While I watch his hand around her waist takes hold of her hand and he's spinning her around and for a moment they hold each other as if they are dancing before dad pulls her into his chest and knots his hands at the base of her spine, he leans down and their noses touch. All laughter is gone, I can't hear their voices but I see their lips move.

Just when Dad goes to kiss Mom she pulls away and slaps him on the shoulder.

Before they notice me I slip away, the front door closes quietly behind me and I stop for a moment to put my sneakers on before heading over to Sawyer's. For some reason I put a bounce in my step, taking them two at a time.

It's quiet, "Sawyer?" I call out after I knock, then I knock again.

My feet go up and down as I impatiently wait, looking between the door in front of me and the house, "hey Sawy" and I give one hard bang to the door, I'm about to do it again when I hear the locks being turned and the chains being removed, Sawyer flings open the door, I see a flash of blonde hair as she moves away.

"Shut it" she says and I quickly step into her room and close the door, "and keep your fucking voice down" her hand goes to her head and I roll my eyes. Hung over, what a shocker, scoffing I knock a bottle over with my foot "late night h-" I begin but then Sawyer turns around and I can't speak.

"Don't" Sawyer holds out her hand but I still move forward, knocking her hand down I touch her cheek, "it's nothing" she insists.

There's a chill inside me, "is this why you're avoiding everyone? Sawyer, what am I gonna do with you"

And she has the nerve to smile, "shouldn't I say that to you" and she gives me the Scott smirk before plopping down on the bed.

"It's not funny"

"The whole world's just one joke, Abby, one big fucking joke" and I hate how there is so little emotion in her voice.

I just sit next to her and look around, everything has been piled up, it's still a mess but somehow organised or at least she was halfway doing it. Dirty clothes are up against her desk, a pack of cigarettes has fallen onto the ground, its contents spilled on the floor, and most of the empty bottles are by the door. She never seems to finish anything she starts.

She sighs, "it's over, I promise, finished"

The thing is though; I don't believe her as easily as I did when I was a little kid. This isn't a trick of the light, and this isn't some daydream. It's nice to pretend in fairies and all that stuff, white lies or whatever.

Now it's just me listening to her excuses.

"Promise?" I hold out my pinkie finger and she loops her own with it, "promise me Sawyer because I swear I'll go to Mom and Dad-"

"Hey, hey, no reason to go dramatic"

Right because _I'm _the dramatic one in the family. I just kink my brow at her.

"I won't say it twice" she shoots back, rolling her eyes at me. She's already forgetting the promise I can tell, she's getting up and reaching for a lighter, "fuck the last thing we need is more drama shit" and she finds her lighter, bringing it to the cigarette in one hand.

"You also said you would quit" I point out.

She sits back down on the bed and crosses her legs, Sawyer sends me a disapproving look, "last time I checked my mother was dead and she wasn't you"

She's so frustrating. I stand up and walk away flinging behind me "Fine then, I'll just go tell _my _mom-" and I choke as her hand grabs the back of my collar and drags me to her, cutting my sentence off.

"Don't you dare" she spins me around and puts her face into mine, "say one word to Mom and I will go have a talk with her and Dad about what all this shit is really about, huh?" and then she abruptly pushes me away.

"You seem more anxious than usual" I comment when Sawyer starts to pace and continues smoking.

"Yeah well Allie's back, ain't she"

For a second I think I've heard wrong, I shake my head, "what?" I practically scream.

This could screw up everything.

Isn't that what you want? Another voice whispers darkly.

"Yeah little miss I-want-to-be-happy has decided to grow a pair, fucking little shit had the nerve to talk back to me after what she did" Sawyer's pacing grows quicker. What did Allie _say _to her? Whatever it was it got to Sawyer. My sister turns to me and stops, "why aren't you freaking out here?" and that cigarette is back to her lips.

What am I meant to do, pace up and down, because yeah she's got that covered, "it won't change anything" I just say. Wow, now _I'm _lying.

"No it'll just screw with Keith's head some more, we can't take it back Abby, it's _way _too late for the rules to change again. Fuck, I should have never let you guys start it"

"You didn't _let _us do anything"

Her blue eyes widen, "I sure as hell didn't stop you!" and then she winces when she accidentally bumps her wrist on one of the shelves and starts a stream of curses.

Just then her phone starts ringing, holding her wrist Sawyer looks at the screen and then walks away, still cursing but more quietly.

Taking a guess I go with my gut "Van?"

"Like I said, it is over" she turns her wrist side to side and then glances at me through the corner of my eye, "anyway seeing you don't care about the Allie situation maybe you should just go, head off to school like the little angel you are" and I have a feeling she doesn't mean that as a compliment.

"I care about _you_" though sometimes I wonder why.

This time when she smirks its less cocky, Sawyer walks straight up to me and places a hand through my hair, holding my head she looks at me and softens, "and I appreciate it but I've got this covered, trust me, okay, I'm a big girl" and she ruffles my hair.

This may sound terrible, don't get me wrong I love my sister, it is just I don't have the biggest trust in her. Not when it comes to her promises. Sawyer has the habit of saying one thing and doing something completely different, she has her own agenda most of the time and it changes to suit her.

I don't know everything about her but I know there are secrets, I know that Van is no good and there are too many bruises she's tried to hide. It's never been said but I _know _it's him. The uneasy feeling won't leave me and my face must give me away for Sawyer puts on a smile and tugs at my hand with her good one. After dragging me back to the bed Sawyer sits behind me and reaches for a brush, then I feel her part my hair and start to brush it.

We are silent for a long time but I can't get that bruised face out of my head, I've never seen a mark on her face before. It makes it all so much more real.

"Why do you stay with him?" I ask in a whisper, my chin lowers. The brush stills and then I feel Sawyer pull one side into a piggy tail, she ties it up and as she moves to the other side she answers.

"He makes me feel something" she sighs.

"Do you love him?" people do strange things for love but I can't connect that word to Sawyer and Van. She flicks my new piggy tails to the front and then cups my shoulders with her hands and rest her chin on my left shoulder.

But she doesn't answer me.

"Is that what love is, hurting someone?" surely it isn't meant to be this way.

"No" she finally says and her fingers dig into my shoulders briefly before she completely lets go of me, "now you really should go finish getting ready"

This time I just nod and go to leave but at the door I turn back, "Sawyer?"

"Yeah"

"Maybe trying to be happy isn't a bad thing" and I leave before she says anything back. I only want her to at least think about it.

Not wanting to get on her wrong side I make sure I shut Sawyer's door and sure enough straight after I hear the locks click into place.

When I turn the corner I collide straight into Mom, "morning" she says but she is looking towards the garage, "did you just see Sawyer?"

"Uh-" I just want the lies to stop but I need to say one more, "no, she's not home" and I watch as Mom's face falls in disappointment.

"Oh" she breathes out in shock and my eyes stray to where she nervously plays with her fingers, I can see the thoughts turning inside Mom's head. There is only so long we can keep her away from the truth, all the truths.

A darkness builds up inside me but I take one of her hands into mine, distracting her, giving her purpose, looking up at her I smile "are you taking me to school today?" and I swing our joined hands between up. Just like that her attention is switched, she looks at our hands and smiles slightly, almost bewildered, and then looks into my eyes, "okay" mom says and I lead her back to the house.

…

This morning is still on my mind when the final bell rings and I get up to leave my class, a part of me expected to be interrupted again and dragged out early but the day went by almost normally. Or maybe I think it did because I was only half paying attention. Either way I step outside and look around for any sign of reporters, hugging my self when the cold wind brushes by me.

A few other kids knock me and I step aside too late, my shoulder getting jarred by the collision. Once again I have faded into the background.

Alone I walk across the grass, going over my classes inside my head like I usually do, trying to make sense of what they were trying to tell me, twisting it until it resembles a picture I can understand. School seems so mundane, perhaps I am too young for that word, and laughing at myself I get lost in the daydreams that so easily take me away sometimes.

I think about a different life I could have, one where I'm an only child, I'm lonely I think. Pausing under a tree another gust of wind causes leaves to fall down on me, this me can talk to the trees and the flowers. What would they say? What stories would they share? Do they know secrets; maybe they can whisper the future, sending warnings.

My sneakers sink into the grass and I watch the ground as I walk, the patterns in the grass dancing in my vision. This other me can read the patterns, she doesn't always like what she sees. She's stubborn like Sawyer, thoughtful like Keith, she has weary grey eyes like Allie, in my mind this other me becomes somebody else entirely, she's aged, a style forms in my mind.

And with the sounds of the town coming alive around me a name comes to me, her name is Harley. A dog barks in the distance and my head snaps up, I see the golden retriever jumping up into the arms of a woman, a smile splits her face and I suddenly become entranced by the picture they make. Two such different beings, friends nonetheless. Harley's only friend is a dog named Emerson, who leads her around as if she is blind. Eyes into the real world as Harley sees into another one.

It's just a scrap of a story, when I get home I'll most likely jot it down and then like always leave it forgotten with all the other ideas. One day I'm going to have an idea that won't get put aside so easily, that's what Dad told me.

"You look happier today" a voice brings me crashing back to earth, really take notice of everything around me I see Julian standing a couple of feet away.

I look around frantically and then I see Mom's car parked under the tree where it always is, I hope too far away to pay attention to us. Frowning at Julian I make my voice harder than it really is, "what are you doing here?"

"I thought we needed to talk" and he looks very serious.

I was hoping he would leave it alone, "look, about last night…" but no words come to me to finish that sentence.

He chuckles, "let me explain it for you-" and then all humour drops and he's that serious guy again "- you don't want this case to go through, you never did"

"I have no idea what you're talking about" and I mentally cringe as I give a fake laugh, like that's convincing. Julian steps in front of me to block my escape but I just go around him and walk faster.

He follows behind me, "Abby, wait, if someone is pressuring you to do this, one of your parents, your sister, you can tell-"

"What? _What?_" I spin back around stopping him in his tracks. He gets it so _wrong _sometimes, its unbelievable.

"Nobody can force you to do this" he says.

I just shake my head, "what makes you think anyone is forcing me?"

"I don't know, you call me crying saying you don't want to, just a thought" and he just looks at me.

The moment I got off the phone I had known it was a big, big mistake but I couldn't take it back and now the next day I have to live with the consequences. I could do two things, tell Julian the truth or keep lying. It's not that simple though, it's not my choice, I need permission before I can stop this. I didn't think of that when I called him last night but afterwards it had come back to me. So I can't let Julian know the truth.

When I don't reply he becomes more determined, "if you don't want to talk about it I'm sure Sam would like to hear what I have to say, or maybe Lucas or Brooke"

Fear fills me. I can't break my promise.

"You can't, you're not allowed to" I quickly throw back at him, "if you break my… confidence, I can have you debarred or whatever it is" I hope he can't tell how nervous I am but I can't have him tell anyone. Straightening up with fake daring I look Julian straight in the eye, "I refuse to let you tell anyone that it wasn't my idea"

His mouth falls open, after a few seconds he closes it and I take the opportunity to walk away.

"It was Keith, wasn't it?" his voice reaches me just when I think I'm safe. My back stiffens but I don't look back, I think that was answer enough, I hear him sigh and I just continue to walk off.

…

"You tell them you want it to stop" my brother told me when I asked him what was I meant to say when they ask me why. It didn't seem simple then, it still doesn't.

I had shaken my head, "that's not how I want it to end"

"Then it never will" his voice had become hard, angry like I'd never heard him "when is enough going to be enough Abby, I'm tired okay, can't you just do this one thing for me"

Never seeing Keith like that there seemed no real way to respond, "they won't believe me"

Keith had gone quiet for a while, "they won't want to but a part of them will" and then he'd speared me with his deep gaze "because we all just want it to stop"

"They won't" was all I said back. It's all _I _could believe. It still gets me, I still think they all know I'm lying and every day this charade last I think it's going to be the last but I made a promise.

"Promise me" he'd demanded, eyes fierce and more alive than I'd seen them in weeks, "promise me you won't let me down"

And with a reluctant "I promise" my fate was sealed.

Now I leave Julian behind, another person who knows the truth, and head towards my mom, she greets me with a wide smile, "hi there"

"Hey" and after buckling my seatbelt I look around again, "it's quiet today"

Not looking at me Mom starts the car and begins to drive off, her eyes on the road she says "we released a press statement today" and before I know it we're at a set of lights and she's looking at me, "I'm sorry you have to go through all this. I know our family can be like a three ring circus sometimes… I just want you to know-" she struggles with the words.

"I know" I tell her and she nods, "good" Mom gives a small smile and her dimples deepen but then the light turns green and we're on the go again.

Guilt fills me, it feels like I'm piling lie onto lie when all she wants to do is make things right. One day though I'm going to explain it all to Mom, I'm going to tell her its not because we didn't love her or each other enough, if anything it is the complete opposite.

I tell myself just one more day, and tomorrow I'll say the same.

-x-

_So a day when you've lost yourself completely_

_Could be a night when your life ends_

_Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving_

_All the pain held in your…_

_Hands are shaking cold_

_Your hands are mine to hold_

_Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong_

_Move along, move along like I know you do_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along just to make it through_

_Move along_

_Go on, go on, go on, go on_  
_When everything is wrong, we move along_

_Go on, go on, go on, go on_

_When everything is wrong, we move along_

_When all you got to keep is strong_

_Move along, move along like I know you do_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along_

_Just to make it through_

_When all you got to keep is strong_

_Move along, move along like I know you do_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along just to make it through_

_When all you got to keep is strong_

_Move along, move along like I know you do_

_And even when your hope is gone_

_Move along, move along just to make it through_

_Move along_

_Go on, go on, go on, go on_

_Right back what is wrong_

_We move along._

- Move Along, _All American Rejects_


	24. I See You

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it yet. If I did lets just say a certain wedding wouldn't be happening. Well at least there would be a different groom. At least Brooke looks amazing.**

**An update! Are your eyes deceiving you? No. Read on. **

_I'm sitting across from you_

_I'm dreaming of the things I do_

_I don't speak _

_You don't know me at all_

_For fear of what you might do_

_I say nothing but stare at you_

_And I'm dreaming_

_I'm trippin' over you_

_Truth be told_

_My problems solved_

_You mean the world to me _

_But you'll never know_

_You could be cruel to me_

_While we're risking the way that I see you_

_That I see you_

_That I see you_

_That I see you_

_That I see_

_Conversations_

_Not me at all_

_I'm hesitating_

_Only to fall_

_And I'm waiting _

_I'm hating everyone_

_Could it be you fell for me?_

_And any possible similarity_

_If its all, how would I know?_

_You never knew me at all but I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Four

*_Brooke_*

When I was young I assumed all families were like mine. I didn't understand the value of money, that it wasn't normal to have more than you wanted or needed, that _no _was said. The word _no_ to me was not about materialistic things. _No, not now _was a familiar phrase in my home. It was the response my mother and father gave me whenever I asked for their time or attention. Parents were these amazingly beautiful, powerful beings that were at a distance, everything we did was to please them. If they weren't happy everyone wasn't happy. A mother didn't cook, a mother didn't play, a mother didn't clean, and a mother didn't listen. There was a live in maid, she cooked and cleaned and kept the house running, she was sweet but fierce and always let me sneak a cookie even when Nanny said I'd had enough. It was Nanny who watched me, who played with me and took me out, Nanny who taught me to sing songs and dance while watching TV, who read me books and helped me count and write. Nanny was there to fix my scrapes with bright pink bandaids, and she smiled at me like everything I did was right.

It was when I went to school that the picture I drew didn't match the other kids, still I didn't think of it much. Not until that first birthday party I went to. When I saw that mothers are meant to smile too and that fathers are meant to come home for birthdays. I became more determined to gain their acceptance then, to get them to want to spend time with me but the more I seemed to push the more they seemed to want the opposite. _Not now! _I hated those two words.

I got older, angrier, and more jealous of the other children. I became mean. They had what I wanted so I acted like I didn't care and threw myself into the things that I did have and they didn't.

The person I was most jealous of was my best friend Peyton. She had the perfect mother, her father was away at work a lot but Anna Sawyer was always there for Peyton and therefore for me. Anna and Nanny got along, we spent many weekends the four of us together and I use to pretend that Nanny was my mother and that the look she gave me was the same look Peyton got from Anna. They were my family, Nanny, Anna and Peyton. It all changed when I was nine.

That day I will never forget, Peyton and I were waiting at school to get picked up but Anna was late. Nanny came but we waited with Peyton, it wasn't the first time this had happened. That day was different though because Anna Sawyer never made it. On the way to picking up Peyton she ran a red light and was rushed to hospital, she died a few days later.

You wouldn't guess it later but before Anna died Peyton had smiled even more than me, she use to talk non stop, it was impossible to shut the two of us up and Nanny use to call us two peas in a pod. After Anna died Peyton stopped talking and she stopped smiling, so I made it my mission to keep her happy, to make her laugh, to always be there. I was never going to be late and I was always going to show up.

A few months after Anna's death my mother fired Nanny. That night I cried in my room, my mother came in and held my cheeks between her hands, she shook me and told me Davis' didn't cry, to grow up.

Suddenly I had no more family. I couldn't say that though, I couldn't let it show. The lie that I had the perfect life was already in place, and appearances were _all so important_. I couldn't even tell my best friend how I felt, how lonely it was to be at home, how I now had no one. She'd lost her _mother_. I had lost my nanny.

I was still jealous though, still jealous that she'd had a mother who loved her, that she still had grandparents and a father who would do anything for her. I would have killed for them. I watched her sulk as they tried to be there for her and I wanted to grab her, shake her and say "do you know how lucky you are?"

But I couldn't because that would have hurt her. And after all I had my mother, I had a beautiful house, and all the toys I could ever want. I had pretty clothes and my own credit card. Still I never felt lucky.

Together we got older, we changed, grew so different people would frown when they saw us together. Peyton was all emo punk, the brooding artist, and quiet with a back off glare. She got sarcastic, cruel even. I was head cheerleader, the school slut, never sober, always happy and always on the go. Peyton shut out the world, shut out love and I tried to find it in all the wrong places and always walked away disappointed. Love to me, acceptance to me, was all about appearances. It's no surprise no one fell in love with a lie.

One thing remained though, in the end it was always the two of us, no matter how we hurt each other we always came back - a never moving constant.

It took something new to rock our foundation. It took Lucas Scott.

He saved me from my shallow, self-destructive ways, showed me that I could be something different, that maybe someone could want me for me. It's funny but looking back now I don't think even Peyton ever bothered to look beneath the act, it was like the more we changed the more she forgot who we use to be.

All I ever really wanted was a family. My craving for this dream shaped so much of my life, for most of my childhood it had me striving to be the perfect daughter - to be seen but not heard, to be there but not seen. As I got older I came to the slow realisation that no matter what I did nothing would ever be good enough, _I _would never be good enough. It wasn't about what dress I wore, what jokes I told, what time I went to bed or grades I made, perfect didn't exist and nothing would ever transform me into what my parents wanted because they didn't want me.

Then I didn't understand it, what was so wrong with me that my own parents couldn't love me? The truth is my family was a twisted web of lies, greed and guilt. They projected their anger and disappointment at themselves and each other onto me. Later my mother Victoria would regret the type of parent she'd been or more correctly what she hadn't been to me. I'm happy to say that in the years before her death my mother was an important and pleasant part of my life and I never regretted allowing her to share in my life or in the kids. I got to see my mother give me that look I use to see Anna give Peyton. It didn't change what I learnt from my childhood though, and nothing could ever truly erase the insecurity, inferiority and sense of abandonment that still haunts me. Nothing could ever take away the craving for the sort of family I saw everyone else having. It's all I ever wanted.

So how did I get here? Sitting next to my daughter in silence and faking too many smiles as I battle to get us all through the day without falling completely apart.

Lucas calls me on it all the time, he can see right through my act. This persona of being a strong, infallible being, while the world's falling down around me I will act like I have it in control. No matter how much I am against it, no matter how much I hate myself I cling to the control like it's a lifeline. Because, to put in plainly, for a long time it was.

It became instinctive to hold a piece of myself back, no matter how close a person came they couldn't have it all or know it all, only what I let them. I guess that is why Lucas has always been a weakness for me, he gets so damn close that there's no room for me to move away, he looks at me and he sees something other people don't see. He knows I'm vulnerable, he knows I'm not what I show the world. He has from the beginning and every now and then he reminds me that I can drop my walls, I can let my guard down a bit.

I can let people know I love them.

It still doesn't take away all that fear though, fear that once I let those words out it will all just vanish, once I allow myself to get too close it will all just fall apart.

Somewhere along the way the lines have blurred and I started building walls between my children and me. Unintentional and unwanted yet they are still there. It's painful because I remember what it was like to doubt a parent's love and I _never _ever wanted any doubt between my children and I. So to know that any of them could question my love for them, it _kills _me. It makes it all seem so insignificant.

And what makes it so much worse is I've noticed them doing the same thing. They walk the walk; talk the talk, hiding behind a carefully constructed mask so the world and me can't see what is underneath. I can recognise my own traits, and I can see why they do it, not just to protect themselves but also to protect all of us.

We're all well meaning and so…

I sigh.

Misguided. We're misguided and I'm the one leading them astray.

These walls need to be bashed down, and looking at Abby despite it all I can see through her. It's as if the barriers are made of glass, what I see might be blurry but I see it anyway. I had always hoped they could see me too.

"Let's do something" I say out of nowhere not even knowing I was going to make the comment until it was out there floating between us. Abby frowns at me and I try to fill the silence, "when was the last time the two of us did something just me and you?"

She stares blankly at me for a moment, her mouth hangs open and then she slowly speaks as if talking to a slow five year old, "I don't know, sometime before I sued you"

It takes me by shock but it doesn't hurt, it doesn't even make me flinch. Hands on the wheel I wink at her, "I think you spend too much time with Sawyer"

"She does too"

And I laugh and watch as Abby turns her head to look out the window but not before I see the smile creeping to her lips.

"I'm serious! We can go… bowling or something" Why not? Who says we have to be at each other's throats? Why can't I just spend an afternoon with my daughter and enjoy it. There's no reason not too. "What do you say?"

"Mom you hate bowling" she says quickly and gives me the strangest look as if trying to figure out if I've been kidnapped by aliens and replaced with a total stranger.

She's right, I do hate bowling and I've never taken them before. I'm the mother who does spontaneous trips to the beach or maybe Rome, I'll grab the popcorn and watch any movie they want even if I know I'll hate it or if I've seen it a million times before, I've suggested rock climbing, rock concerts, sailing, games nights, the zoo… the list is endless. Bowling isn't on it though. It seems so normal, so mom, dad and two and a half kids.

It's just not _us_. Hell I taught my daughters how to hustle boys at pool by the time they were ten.

Suddenly I know where to go, doing an illegal u-turn on the dead street I start heading in the opposite direction.

Wary Abby narrows her eyes at me, her hand going for the door to grip but she doesn't say anything, she's still watching me trying to figure something out.

…

The first time I got drunk I was twelve, my parents had left me alone at home _again_ with only the new maid, she was in her mid twenties and unlike the last didn't think looking after me was a part of her job. And it wasn't. I was more scared than I pretended, lying even to myself, I said I didn't care, not that I was alone, not that the tree kept banging against the window, not that the globe in my room had broken, and especially not that it was my birthday and no one but Peyton had remembered.

Wanting to rebel I had taken determined steps to my parents bar, and discovered that with enough alcohol not caring is a lot easier.

Twelve. You don't think it's young then, it's not until you're older and you look at that twelve year old and think _how young_ and judge what they are too young for and then it hits you, it hits you everything that you did at that age. And then you're looking at yourself at that age and in shock, _how young_.

Abby, looks so unbelievably young to me. I like that, I like the fact she didn't have to grow up the way I did, that she's not twelve and alone in a house, too scared to say so, too angry to breathe, too hurt that not feeling is so much better. I like that she cares, that everything she does shows how much she does care, about herself and others.

I love her not just because she's my daughter and from the moment I held her she had me wrapped around her finger, I love her simply for her, for the amazing person she is becoming. Because she's the bravest person I know and she doesn't even realise how strong she is, because she bites her tongue when she writes and knows exactly when to give a hug. I could go on about all the little things that make her Abby, all the reasons I love her.

I never felt lucky when I was young, now though I feel so lucky for each and every member of my family.

…

Abby looks confused when I park in front of the bar, I think she'd be less surprised if I had driven her to the airport.

"Better than bowling" is all I say before getting out of the car, she follows and I lock the doors, walk around the car and sling an arm over her shoulder before leading us inside.

It's slightly ironic that out of all my children it's Sawyer I've always connected to more, though we've grown apart in the last seven years we still have this _energy _between us. Lucas and Abby have a similar bond, you can see them together sometimes and it's as if they are two halves of the same whole. It's most noticeable when they are on the court together. I don't have that link with Abby. I can't just get a basketball and open her up. When Sawyer was her age all we had to do is sit across from each other, a glass in each of our hands, the both of us with our sketch pads in our laps and it was so easy and even though we don't talk like we use to, give us a similar situation, a camera in her hand instead, and one look can say it all. No words needed.

And the closest I've ever felt that energy between Abby and me is when I taught her how to play pool.

_The Blue Post _is the type of place I use to practically live in back in high school, lots of shadows, staff who have better things to do than question an ID, boys and pool, lots of pool. It was far enough of the radar no one from school bothered me here, I was just another regular who was on first name basis with the older men who relaxed here with a beer after work. The guys use to try to hide their chuckling when I would talk frat boys or clueless tourists into a game of pool, having watched me work the same routine since I was fifteen they'd long stopped being surprised when I walked away a hundred dollars richer.

I haven't been back here in years and just walking back through the doors makes me smile. Abby sees the pool tables straight away and her eyes light up, "wanna play?"

I let her go and she races for the last free table, racking it up before I even reach her. She stops half way through and looks up at me, her left eyebrow kinking up in true Davis fashion, "bet you twenty bucks"

"Hell no" I laugh, "I'm not going to rob you of your allowance"

"It's always the ones who are so sure that fall _so _hard" and her brow hitches higher. I won't fall for it, snickering I take up where she left off and watch Abby from the corner of my eye as she grabs the cues, "eight ball?" she asks returning. I nod. Lets keep it classic.

After getting back with Lucas I rediscovered my love of pool, I found it as a way to relax amidst our hectic lives. When Keith got sick and the girls fretted I passed the method of coping onto them, when the world is spinning around you its nice to have some control. It's a game, both easy and a challenge, and I taught the girls how to play the game and the players. Because of this Abby is beyond comfortable right now, she handles the cue with an ease that makes me proud and then she prepares to break. Scott family rule, youngest breaks.

"The student becomes the teacher" I click my tongue and she just smirks. That's a hint of the Scott genes right there.

"You said it" she shoots back overly confident and then breaks.

I watch the balls break and laugh out loud, how the mighty fall. Abby moans when she notices her fatal error, "Mom?" she asks.

"Let me guess, you want me to cut you a break, no pun intended" I shake my head, "no, no. You get too cocky and this is what happens"

"Normal people wouldn't even notice" she complains but moves out of the way. I probably would have let it slide if Abby hadn't seen it, what's one less ball hitting the cushions between mother and daughter but now she's said something and she expects to play by the rules no matter how strict.

I set up my shot, "at least I won't re-rack" and I wink before continuing.

It's quick, we don't take our time and I sink one small first up, then one more and then two more. When I foul Abby laughs, she knows I have a habit of hitting the other players ball, it's my weakness.

Abby's turn is loud; she's a bit heavy with her cue but the technique works for her. One ball at a time, three in a row, I watch her move around, choose the best vantage point and then take my breath away. That third ball, a blue ten drops in but hits my four, which follows the ten, the moment is tense and Abby bites her lip and winces.

Thanks to Abby I have only two to go, it's a fairly simple shot because the table is set with my last two perfectly aligned to knock them both out, easy with a bit of skill of course.

"Ooh" Abby says under her breath, loud enough for me to hear as she walks by and then leaning against the table opposite me she gives a low whistle. Back in the day if that had been me a little older than her, up against one of those cocky freshmen this would be about the time I would lean a little forward forcing their eyes away form their shot and to my cleavage. Abby doesn't have that advantage, she's a kid and I'm her mother but she knows how to play me.

It's funny how she narrows her eyes at me, "make you or break you" but it is not her words that are distracting, it's the hard look, the way she rest against the table. I lift my hand and wave it for her to get off but she stays in my line of vision shaking her head and crossing her arms.

Then she chooses the perfect time to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out, my hand shakes just enough as I giggle that only one ball sinks. Really it's my fault for letting something so small distract me.

Abby's head rolls back as she laughs, "hey, still my shot" I say and she shrugs as if she doesn't care. Playing it cool. No need to act nervous, we know each other and there's no money at risk.

Then I look at the table and frown. My ball was knocked by hers and didn't sail straight into the pocket like I'd wanted, instead it rest awkwardly against the cushion, hers blocking it.

Damn.

I have to give this one to her. Hitting hers first I free mine but the game passes to Abby.

She wiggles her bum in my direction before sinking another of hers and then another.

"Five down, two to go" Abby murmurs to herself, her eyes narrow, she moves around the table twice taking more time now until she's ready. The next shot plays out nicely, coming off the cushion the cue ball hits her eleven that zooms across the table to hit her nine and it sails straight into the pocket.

"Nice"

"I had a good teacher" she shrugs it off and goes for her last ball. The eleven is right near the pocket, and heavy-handed Abby is going to have trouble with it. I can see the frown that creases her forehead and I bite my lip waiting. She can do it. I know she can.

I close my eyes as it goes in, the white right behind it. Foul.

"My teacher sucked" Abby moans and it breaks the moment, I roll my eyes.

If she wasn't my kid the term _ball-in-hand _would have me singing in joy but I kinda feel bad for her. And it's made it so easy for me.

Abby takes it though, clapping for me when I sink my last ball. Only the eight ball to go now and then the game is mine.

…

When Abby was ten, last time Keith's remission ended, and our time at the hospital had skyrocketed I took it upon myself to take the girls under my wing even more. They knew how to play but I wanted them to really control that table, they were older, Abby had the height and age to go to the next level. Sawyer was already nearly as good as me and she made me work for each win, together we challenged Abby until she pushed back.

My daughter is honest though, it's not winning the game that matters to her it is _winning _the game. The journey, the work, the whole game, she would prefer a good loss over a fake win. Parents are meant to let their kids win, it builds confidence and everything but I had been about to make the shot which would be my downfall and our eyes had met. I saw the knowledge in her eyes, the disappointment and I knew that if I did what I was about to do I would lose something between us.

So I made my shot and it was perfect. I won the game and Abby grinned. She goes into each game with the determination to beat me, one day she will and because she'll know she deserved it her smile will be even bigger. It will be a first, a real and honest first. Nothing fake about it and on that day I will be smiling two.

…

"Your call" I say.

Abby doesn't even look at the table, she meets my gaze and points her finger, "corner pocket" and my eyes follow her finger. I nod.

The eight ball goes straight in and before I can even blink Abby is setting up the next game, "still got it Mom" she winks at me, "now let's up the stakes"

"Up the stakes?"

"You win we get to do what you wanna do next, if I win we do what I want to do" she shrugs and I nod, hell why not. My mind goes to all the things I could get her to do but honestly after here I'm not too fussed. Get her to clean her room is high on the list but I step back and just settle with go see Keith.

She'll like that one too.

This break Abby does it perfect sinking two balls straight away, I'm smalls again but I have to stand back and wait as Abby finishes her shot. Thirteen goes in next, and then a nice shot that sinks the nine, next goes the twelve and fourteen before she misses all together. Abby shrugs it off but I stand completely shocked.

Lucky bitch.

"Now that is _nice,_" I whistle.

I'm still slightly blown away as I take over the table. I get two balls in before I screw up, my two almost went in but it doesn't quite make it. Well I took I risk and it failed.

Abby doesn't even pause before sinking her last big, the fifteen bounces off the cushion to the right and then goes straight into the pocket. Holding my breath I watch Abby carefully, the eight ball is in a similar position that had her losing the last game but she sinks it perfectly and the white stops before it gets the chance to follow.

I laugh.

I can't help it the chuckle just comes bursting out. Abby drops her cue and then gives a little jump and pumps her fist in the air. She nearly trips ion her cue and quickly picks it up and lays it down across the table and I do the same.

The grin that is stamped all over her face is so beautiful, I hold out my hand for a high five and Abby slaps hers against mine before throwing her arms around me. Together we laugh.

My daughter just kicked my ass.

And I can't be sure but I think she might have just hustled me.

…

I should have been surprised when Abby claimed her reward but I'm not, I'm not surprised at all as we walk through the familiar hospital on our way to see Keith with our steps in sync.

Outside his room we stop, Allie sits on the bench across from his door, her feet going up and down causing her legs to shake, her elbows rest on her shaky knees and her arms are rocking back and forth while her entwined hands tap against her chin. Allie's eyes are on the ground so she doesn't see us. Abby completely freezes next to me and then slowly looks to me for direction. I don't know so I just shake my head.

The disappearance of Allie in our lives not so subtly matched the death of her brother and I would be lying if I didn't admit that I knew why she'd suddenly vanished. It's hard. It's painful. It's impossible sometimes. I can't lock myself away but she could and she did and it breaks my heart to see this young girl looking so lost.

If it had been two other teenagers I might have doubted their little romance was more than a childish crush, it's not that simple though. I could see it in their eyes, in their touches, just how much they truly loved each other. It wasn't puppy love. It still isn't.

"Allie?"

She snaps to attention, "Hey" a sad smile, before her eyes stray to the closed door, "how is he?"

"I-uh-"

"He told them not to let me in, not to tell me anything… I…" she stops, her body still shaking. Allie's grey eyes are surrounded by pink and she has shadows under her eyes. She's far too pale and I fight the instinct to hug her.

Turning to Abby I touch her shoulder, "go on ahead" and Abby gives us one last look before opening the door and slipping inside.

Alone with Allie I sit next to her, the back of my head hits the wall behind us and I stare at Keith's door. Allie's feet eventually go still and I feel her eyes move to me, she's waiting.

"His kidneys are shutting down, if he doesn't get a transplant soon he will die" I say it just loud enough for her to hear, the words hit me too but I can't lie to her or myself.

"That's it?"

I nod. That's it. That is our only option. There's two different ways this can go, Keith gets the transplant and lives to tell another tale or he doesn't and our time is up. You'd think after twelve years you'd be prepared, well I'm not and by the way Allie releases her breath neither is she.

Her hands fall between her legs, her chin goes down and she's crying.

"Do you want me to call your parents?" I ask and Allie immediately shakes her head.

She wipes at her eyes, then with her sleeve wipes her nose, she shakes her head again with a small smile, her eyes down, "he's gotta let me in eventually"

I know Keith is my son but as I stand up and briefly touch her shoulder I can't help but root for Allie.

When I enter Keith's room I know that Abby and Keith have quickly gone silent, there's this awkward tension that cuts through the room and Keith quickly pulls his hand from Allie's hold. She turns to look at me and Abby quickly smiles before her eyes put up a shield to hide her emotions, and I pause in closing the door. Then I let go of the door and it shuts, "how they treating you today?"

Keith's lips curl up, "five star treatment"

I walk over and Abby stands, biting the tip of her thumb she goes to the rest against the wall more and more as I get closer. When I reach Keith I smooth back his hair and kiss his cheek, "hey sweetie"

"Hi Mom"

…

After half an hour Keith has gone through two vomiting fits and is now falling to sleep, I kiss him goodbye and motion for Abby to do the same. She places her cheek against his chest and closes her eyes, her hand searching for his. Keith's eyes shut as well he touches her hair tentatively with his free hand and squeezes the one she holds, "I'll be here tomorrow" he says just before coughing. Abby's eyes go tight for a moment and then she gets up, "sleep good then. Later Keith"

"Later sis"

We're at the door when he calls out, "Abby"

She stops and looks back, Keith looks directly at her "about before, it's okay"

My mind races with what that means, I look between them and see Abby nod, she then turns back to me and her face doesn't give away much. She looks unsure and I know whatever it is she doesn't believe him.

I want to say something but Abby is already reaching for the door and Keith has his eyes shut again so I follow my daughter out. It's not the first time they've confused me lately, and it won't be the last.

We pass Allie as we leave, she is still on the same bench but this time she's laying and she's asleep. One of the nurses give Allie a sympathetic look and then sees me and smiles, I nod in acknowledgement before grabbing Abby's hand and going.

…

The drive home reminds me of our earlier drive but there's a feeling of togetherness about it. A corner away from home Abby finally speaks, "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"When you love somebody is it easier to forgive them?"

Keeping my eyes on the road I answer, "No. Sometimes it makes it harder"

She sighs, "Yeah, I thought so"

"But I believe if you really love somebody after the wait you do forgive them, you don't walk away, and that's how you know it's real"

Even though I don't look at Abby I can feel her watching me, so I smile and quickly look at her before turning onto our street.

The first thing I see is Sawyer's jeep, my heart bounces, parking I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt and get out, "your sisters home" I say even though I know Abby can tell anyway, "why don't you go inside"

I'm so focused on getting to Sawyer, finally working things out with her I don't realise Abby's followed me until I am halfway up the stairs leading to Sawyers loft.

"Mom, I don't think-" her voice pauses me for a moment, I look back at her and there's something in her face that has my heart beat even faster. In this moment I can see straight through her walls, see she is hiding something from me, something about Sawyer, I see fear and guilt and pain in her eyes. I see pure love.

And then it's gone.

"I don't think she's ready" she finishes, biting her lip and watching me, she even lifts her chin a bit.

I frown at her, about to speak something else catches my attention, a noise from Sawyer's room, my face half turns to the door and at the same time I hear the unfamiliar voice, see Abby's eyes widen and notice Sawyer's door is cracked upon, one of her locks completely broken.

"Mom" Abby half yells but I'm already speeding towards that door. It happens in a few seconds, maybe not even that. The noises become clearer just before I open the door and I'm shocked but at the same time I sensed it, there's no pause, my heartbeat is loud, beating in my chest and thumping in my ears.

Before my eyes Sawyer is thrown across the room as if she weighs nothing, her blonde hair covering her face as she hits the ground. Records fall from the shelf next to her, a few raining down beside her and then he's on her, rolling her over, straddling her waist.

My hands grab his jacket but my nails slide right off him, I grab for him again, going for the collar and latching on and pulling with all my might. In a flash he's off Sawyer and knocking me back, I'm picked up, shaken and then dropped to the ground.

There's a laugh, something sharp pricks my back and my ears start to ring but his hands are on me again.

A fist hits my jaw knocking me back again and I slide across the room until Sawyer's bed stops me. Getting onto my hands about to stand I lift my head and see Sawyer.

My daughter has rolled over and is looking right at me, her blue eyes wide with fear and worry, they flicker between him and me and then they are locked on mine. She doesn't have to say anything.

_Run_.

Without blinking I look up at the man between us, a boy really, he grins and walks towards me grabbing my cheeks he forces my face to stay still as he leans in close "we're gonna have some fun baby but I'm busy with that whore at the moment, so wait your turn" and then his lips are on mine, it's a brief hard kiss before he pulls back and roughly jerks my face away.

My heart starts beating even louder, the ringing goes up a pitch and as he walks slowly towards Sawyer our eyes meet again.

_Run_. This time she mouths the word.

The thing is though we have something in common, neither one of us likes to do what we're told.

Sawyer blinks and I know she knows I'm not going to go. And that's when time starts to slow.

-x-

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (But I see you)_

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (But I see you)_

_Truth be told_

_My problems solved_

_You mean the world to me_

_But you'll never know_

_You could be cruel to me_

_While we're risking the way that I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

_But I see you_

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (but I see you)_

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (but I see you)_

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (but I see you)_

_I'm standing across from you (But I see you)_

_I've dreamt alone, now the dreams won't do (but I see you)_

_But I see you_

- I See You, _Mika_

**Dude, do you know how hard it was to write this? This chapter is a filler pretty much but arghh that made it harder**. **In the original it starts in the car ride and then Brooke kinda decides to take Abby to the Blue Post and they have a little joke and share banter, and Brooke has some little thoughts about her behaviour and that of the kids, and then at the Blue Post her and Abby play pool and Brooke just tells her stories about her past and her past with Lucas. So I was rewriting it and I couldn't remember the little things that made this chapter a must, so the other night I deleted my shitty what two paragraphs rewrite and just started somewhere completely different and then I was up for hours. For the pool scene I couldn't remember what the hell Brooke told Abby so I kinda cut out all their conversation. Hey she can just give the kid the book. But here it is finally and this means this story is after months of struggle back on damn track. Next chapter well…. I'll leave you to your assumptions until it is up. Thankyou to those who have been reading, reviewed, encouraged me to continue and got on my back because of it.**

**On another topic, I've finished BCbtrd and I am looking for a second fic to be working on, there area few options, for those of you who haven't already go to my profile and to my new story 'You Choose' and read the first chapter previews of 3 possible ideas, tell me your opinion and then vote on the poll back on my profile. So far it seems to be a close draw between 'Hear You Me' and 'Good Behaviour'**

**Anyways its late here and I'm off for a holiday tomorrow, um well technically today, so just saying it would be really nice to return after five days of no technology to a inbox full of review alerts. That would be sooooo nice and sweet of you all after thois long wait for this update. Now I breathe a sigh or relief and joy that MBK is back. Later, hugs, Mickei B **


	25. Brand New Day

**Disclaimer: simply, no I do not own anything. Don't sue me. Please. Oh yeah, before I forget, please make sure you read the last update, it was from Brooke's pov and had a cliff hanger ending, if that doesn't ring a bell best to go back. thanks**

_Never thought I'd say I'm sorry_

_Never thought I'd be the one to bring you down_

_Now when I look out my window_

_But there doesn't seem to be anyone around_

_And I, I think I'll change my ways_

So all your words get noticed

_Tomorrow's a brand new day_

_Tomorrow's a new day_

_We'd said we'd take a little time_

_For both of us to see_

_And wonder what it'd be like to carry on_

_Yeah, I know I got crazy_

_Well I guess that's just me_

_If I could turn back time before the wrong_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Five

_*Sawyer*_

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, your greatest memories, your worse regrets, all coming to mind in one single moment before its over.

I am not about to die, or at least I'm confident that today is not that day. But still as I look at my mother and feel Van coming closer to me my life starts flashing before my eyes. It looks pretty amazing, its bright and happy, my parents smile a lot, Dad pushing me on the swing, Mom spinning me around with her laughter in the air, hugs from my little brother, playing with my little sister, listening to music with my best friend, so many more moments. I'm growing up, joining the cheerleading squad, quitting the cheerleading squad, my first kiss, my first break up, the night I snuck out and got drunk and came home via a cop car, meeting Van, the first time I did drugs, the first time I woke up with no memory of the night before. The fights, oh the fights, Mom is screaming at me and I'm walking out that door anyway, Dad is confiscating my car keys, Keith is shaking his head at me holding an empty bottle in his hand, and then there's Abby from this morning. I'm brushing her hair and I am making her a promise.

A promise I had intended on keeping but hell I should know by now that nothing is ever really over, you don't get to always choose because it's not always about you. And now it's really not about just me. There's Van, an angry, pissed off mother fucking crazy Van, there's my Mom, who I know I've let down in so many ways who right now I would anything to get her the hell out of here. But she won't leave me behind, and I can't believe I ever thought she willingly would.

And then there's my little sister, my kid sister, who I should be protecting not the other way around. Abby stands in the doorway with her mouth open and Van thankfully hasn't noticed her, thank god.

Van's above me now, blocking my view of Mom and then he pulls me up by grabbing my hair, I close my eyes and get to my feet before he rips my scalp off. I'm okay with this right now as long as he is focused on me he's not paying attention to the rest of my family.

"Go" I say.

Van laughs in my ear, turning me so my back is to his chest, he twists my arm, which doesn't help my already injured wrist. Fuck, it hurts.

"Take Abby, just go" I can't see her but I just want her to listen to me for once, trust me for once, and do what I fucking say, "please"

"Beg" Van whispers into my ear and then pushes me against my shelves and punches me right in the face. For a moment everything goes black.

My vision returns and I hear Mom suddenly speak, sure and clear, "don't touch her"

Smiling at me Van slowly turns. I close my eyes and fight slipping down onto the ground. It's all so quiet so I force myself to open my eyes. Back to me Van blocks my view of Mom but the tension in the room seems even _more_, if a pin dropped I'm sure it would sound like an earthquake. I'm curious because Van is so still, his shoulders stiff, his hands slightly spread away from his body.

Mom speaks again, "get the hell away from my daughter" and then there's a click.

I know I should know that sound but I can't seem to remember why it's familiar. My whole body hurts, my whole life hurts.

Van laughs again, "You think you scare me?" and then he spins around grabs me and spins back, holding my arms tight with my face to my mom.

"Go for it" Van teases, and my eyes widen.

My mother stands, her feet apart, her arms out and both hands gripping a gun. I've never seen my mother hold a gun before but it must be hers because that's one thing I _don't _keep in my room.

"I _said _get the hell away from my daughter"

"Come on lady, you ain't going to shoot me, you don't know what to do with that thing" Van laughs, twisting my arm and pulling it so my shoulder pops out a little. I wince and Mom's eyes flicker to where his hand holds me before returning to Van.

She doesn't flinch, blink or even breathe before quickly aiming the gun to the side and shooting. I can't help but look, Van does the same, and I know what he sees. There's a bullet hole right between the eyes of the drummer in my favourite poster.

We both face Mom again, she kinks her brow and I smile, "you can either let her go by choice or I'll help her up from your cold, dead body. So don't try me" ha, that's my mother.

Slowly Van releases me, without him to hold me up I fall to the ground. With the gun still in one hand Mom starts walking towards us. Van immediately backs up, walking around to the other side of the bed with his hands up in the air.

With Mom's help I'm on my feet again and then Abby is rushing forward, "go inside and call the cops, ask for Brody and tell him to come here" Mom instructs us, "_now_" she yells when we don't move. She secures her grip on the gun and continues to watch Van.

Abby is the first to move.

"You don't want to do that" Van smirks with a knowing look, he even takes a step forward.

Mom cocks the gun, "I'm the one making the rules here"

"Then think fast because when the cops you plan to call come here you'll have to explain why Sawyer here has a fucking room full of drugs"

The room is suddenly silent, Mom turns to look at me and her hands shake for a moment before she snaps back to Van and her composure returns. Seconds tick by and then Mom lowers the gun, "go"

…

The silence is deafening. I wait impatiently for the explosion, my eyes slightly lowered at all times. I'm not exactly sure how much time has gone by since Van ran out of here, long enough for Uncle Nathan to come here and pick up Abby, long enough that Dr Yates has been and gone to check me over and during all this Mom hasn't said one word to me.

Now we're alone and I'm sitting on my bed, chin down, still waiting as Mom just looks around. She'd started to slowly organise the mess but when she found the draw full of my main stash, which had been tipped over by Van, her hand had stilled on one bag before dropping it as if it had burned her. After that she sat down, her head in her hands, her eyes staring from between her fingers, I check every now and then to see if she has moved.

Finally her hands drop and Mom looks at the mess again, "that guy…"

"Van" I whisper.

She nods, sighs and then repeats the name but with such bitterness, "the boyfriend?" she shakes her head and then her eyes are right on me. I quickly glance away, "Sawyer, what were you thinking?"

The timing may be wrong but I cling to my defensive armour, giving a mocking tilt of the lips I add just enough sarcasm to my tone "I guess I wasn't"

"This isn't a joke"

Then Mom's kneeling in front of me, "none of this is funny"

"I know that"

I can't look up, I can't lift my face and show her more of my bruised and bloody face. Most of all I don't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. They were never meant to find out.

The silence returns again. This time I have to say something, I just have to know, "do you hate me?" I cringe at how needy I sound.

In the next moment I'm forced to look into Mom's hazel eyes, she's lifted my face to look at her and she shakes her head gently, "oh, kiddo, I could never hate you"

"But I'm a lo-"

"Don't you dare call my daughter a loser, do you hear me!" she's fierce and now I can't look away.

"You've made mistakes, okay _a lot _of mistakes, really _really _bad ones and a huge part of me feels like slapping you right now but you are not a loser and you will get through this because you're better than this"

But I'm not. Keith is better than this, Abby is, and my parents are, but me? I'm… just not.

I shake my head, the first tear falling.

"Mom, I'm not"

A look comes over her face and I'm unable to finish what I'm about to say. Her eyes had just lit up and I realise that it's the first time I've called her that to her face since Dad and I came home all those years ago.

It felt good, I test it again "_Mom_" and then say what I've thought for a long time but never told anyone "I'm not like you guys. I'm not perfect, I don't know what to do, I get angry and scared and I just screw up over and over and over again"

"And you think we don't?" she laughs rubbing away at my tears, "where you been all these years?"

"But you're so _together_, you and dad, Keith and Abby, none of you would be sitting here. It's _me_. There's something wrong with me. I don't know what happened. Sometimes it feels like I was born in the wrong family, you and dad are so perfect and Peyton… she was a god damn saint or something, how do I compete with that?"

"You don't" Mom leans forward, her brow creased, "there's nothing to compete with. We're not perfect, Sawyer, none of us are, and Peyton… maybe her least of all"

I give her a doubtful look.

Mom stands up abruptly, her hands running through her hair and then she's picking up an empty bottle from the pile she'd made earlier. Turning back to me Mom holds it up, "I was twelve the first time I got drunk and for the next six years most of my biggest mistakes were because of alcohol. Losing my virginity at fourteen, getting a tattoo at fifteen, sleeping with my best friends boyfriend not even an hour after they broke up at sixteen, and when I was seventeen I almost broke up your Aunt and Uncle before they even started dating, I slept with another guy I didn't even like when I still loved your dad… and he walked in after. That is when I stopped drinking to get drunk. I'm not perfect, I never was. Once I was just a scared lonely girl who spent a lot of time being angry and taking it out on other people. I got drunk, partied and slept around but you know what, I stopped, I restarted my life and I chose to be better"

"I can't believe you cheated on dad" for some reason that's what I take in, I just can't imagine her doing that to him.

She's sort of looking to my right, lost in thought "well I wouldn't call it _cheating_, technically we weren't actually together at the time but I almost lost him because of it"

It doesn't click, "just wait, you and dad were together in high school?" I say it the second the thought really comes to me.

Mom looks at me frowning, "did you really _never _read his book?"

I knew that was one day going to bite me in the ass. It's just so _long_ and I really didn't need to read some book about how bloody perfect they all were back then.

"We were together twice"

"But what happened?"

She turns around for a moment, her hand running over my desk, "my best friend had trouble keeping her lips off my boyfriend" she says it so quietly I almost didn't hear her.

"But…" I gulp, "Peyton, my mother, was your best friend"

When Mom looks at me I see the hurt in her eyes, my breath hitches, "_no_" I shake my head, "they wouldn't do that"

"I told you none of us were perfect" she walks back to me and this time sits on the bed next to me and I shift to look at her. There's a twinge in my neck as I do so.

"How come I didn't know any of this?" how could I not know any of this? It's like they all had this other life I never knew about.

Mom shrugs one shoulder, "we don't talk about it. To be honest I don't like being reminded about how the two people I loved the most hurt me the most"

"How could you forgive them?" how could she stay friends with them, trust my dad again, hell how can she look at me? I must be a living, breathing reminder of their betrayal.

At my question a soft smile graces her face, "because I loved them, still do. Kind of like how I love you. You're a lot like her you know, your mother"

"She was a major bitch too?" I laugh.

"Oh yeah" she wraps an arm over my shoulder, "no offence" and for a moment we both smile, then she adds on quietly, "she was still kind of amazing though, there was something about her. She was an artist and music was in her soul. She could let people down-" Mom sighs "-but when she stood up for something, or someone, she was like a flame"

My head drops against hers, "I'm sorry I let you down too"

"The only way you could ever let me down is by letting yourself down. You can yell at me, push me away, hit out, it doesn't matter, it's when you hurt yourself that it hurts me the most" her words are so soft, so gentle, and for the first time in a long time I'm really listening to her. I've missed this, her loving me. And it's not like she ever stopped, I was just too blind, too caught up in myself to see it. To see so much.

I set such high standards on everyone around me that I could never match up and then I punished myself for it when really they didn't either. I told myself I didn't belong and then set out to prove it. And that feels good too; it feels good to be able to belong again.

"Mom did you ever do that?" I ask her.

It's like today the floodgates have opened, she starts talking and I listen as Mom tells me about every mistake she ever made, about each and every time she hurt herself and others, and between hers she tells me every mistake she knows that my birth mother and Dad ever made.

She holds back nothing. I find out nobody ever hurt her like they did. I learn that she used sex not to differently than the way I have, that Peyton tried drugs too, that Dad got drunk and got a tattoo using a fake ID on his first date with Mom, I learn that the first time Dad asked my mother Peyton to marry him she said no.

I hear all about a guy called Jake and a little girl named Jenny, how Peyton reacted to the reappearance of her birth mother, her web cam and subsequent stalker and how they totally kicked his ass.

Dad almost killed his own father, he lied to everyone about his HCM and stole from Gran to pay for medication, he punched Uncle Nathan during class, dated a lesbian… we stray off topic a few times.

Mom cheated on a test to pass a class in her senior year _and _she dated one of her teachers too. Not to mention the time she landed her self, my mother and Aunt Haley in jail.

She tells me why she carries a gun and about what happened after her and Dad got together, she tells me everything about what happened those months seven years ago and we both cry. I understand why they didn't tell me but another part of me wishes that they had.

Most of all I learn that I'm not so different after all, in a way I'm just like all three of them.

"Sawyer"

"Yeah?"

"The things I told you about Peyton and me… your father doesn't know about what happened, he doesn't need to know anymore, so let's just keep that between me and you, okay?"

"Why didn't you ever explain?"

"He loved Peyton, she was his wife, she gave him you and then she was gone, just like that. Peyton wasn't perfect, yes, but memories of her are all he gets to keep, what right do I have to take them away from him?"

I just look at her, she touches my cheek, "it's okay to not be perfect, the important thing is just be _you_"

Looking down I whisper, "I'm scared, Mom"

"I know"

"What if I can't do it, what if I can't fix it?"

"But you can and you will, and we'll be there every step of the way. But just so you know, if I see any drugs or alcohol I will-"

"Kill me" I finish.

Mom smiles, "no, just slap the back of your head _real _hard, your dad on the other hand"

"Right… he still has to find out" another thing I am not looking forward too, "any chance we…?"

She kinks her brow.

"Yeah, didn't think so"

Patting my knee Mom sits up, "come on, let's pack this stuff up"

After over an hour of talking we enjoy the silence as we clean up all the mess, everything that isn't rubbish we place on my bed, everything else gets chucked out except for the stuff that is flushed. Once all the rubbish is gone the rest is taken inside, it was never actually said but I gathered my unsupervised time in the loft is now officially over, once my room is moved back inside Mom confirms it, "it's either this or rehab".

When I smile she places a hand on my shoulder, "trust me, when we're done with you you'll wish it was the other way around"

I don't think I will.

"Can I have my door back?"

No words come from Mom instead she just slowly starts to laugh until it takes her over. I'm taking it as a _hell no_. Well what do I fucking care? I got something better back so I can go a while without a door.

There's a smirk on my face, I can feel it and I know I shouldn't feel smug or happy after today but it feels like I've been drowning or lost and I've finally found my feet again, I know where I am going, or at least I have someone guiding me again. Today might have been one of the worse in my life or it could just be the beginning of my future.

I told Abby it was over and I didn't really believe it, now though I have hope.

I will change. I will get control back. I _will _be someone who makes my parents proud.

And it all starts now.

-x-

_And I, I think I'll change my ways_

_So all your words get noticed_

_Tomorrow's a brand new day_

_Tomorrow's a new day_

_And I… I think I'll change my ways_

_So all your words get noticed_

_I think I'll change my ways_

_I think I'll change my ways_

_Ohh… I think I'll change my ways_

_Never thought I'd say I'm sorry_

_Never thought I'd be the one._

- Brand New Day, _Forty Foot Echo_

**so… right I've prob totally missed a whole heap of stuff that was originally in this chapter but I did my best to recreate what I lost with this Sawyer/Brooke chapter. And hopefully any questions left after this chap will be answered in the future.**

**I've got it planned out in my head, if I don't decide to add a chapter there are eleven left and also an epilogue. Next up is Lucas.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and once again those who gave me encouragement to continue with this fic.**

**On another note, totally random, but I tend to get spaces between my lyric lines on the version and I never use to. I have no idea what's diff, if anyone knows how I can stop this it'll be much appreciated, thanks. And oh yeah check my profile for info about my upcoming fic.**

**Hugs, and have a good week**

**Mickei b**


	26. The Beauty and the Tragedy

**Disclaimer: If I owned OTH when Quinn was shot it would have been fatal, I probably wouldn't even bother to show her funeral. She has wasted enough screen time as it is. So as long as that… thing… is in the show you can be safe in the knowledge I do not have any rights.**

**This chapter is sligtly different because it has two sections, one from present POV and the other past POV. Thanks for reading. And I would like to thank the reviewers for their love, Allie, Alex, haleydavisbaker, A, Diane and skyecruby. Hope you enjoy.**

_Watch your step, love is broken  
I am every tear you cry  
Save your breath, your heart has spoken  
You already have my life_

_For I am finding out that love will kill and save me_  
_Taking the dreams that made me up_  
_And tearing them away_  
_But the same love will take this heart that's barely beating_  
_And fill it with hope beyond the stars_  
_Only love_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Six

_*Lucas*_

By the time I get home I am exhausted and tired, my body aches in ways that remind me I am no longer a young man, my body and my heart cannot take the strain they once did. It seems the time has come for me to leave the games of the young to the young, still I know the next time the boys ask me to join them I'll make the same decision.

The smile on my lips softens as I step inside the house and close the door behind me. There is a stillness in the air that causes me to pause then dropping my bag by the door I loosen my tie as I step further inside, calling out "Brooke, Abby, I'm home"

I'm later than I normally would be thanks to my after game two on two with some of the boys but it's not the first time it has happened so I know Brooke wouldn't have worried. In the kitchen I find dinner waiting for me, I chuckle when I see the box of Thai food and wonder what distraction had caused Brooke to order Thai. Not hungry I close the fridge and drape my jacket over the counter then walk through the dining room to the living room.

Brooke is curled up on the couch, fast asleep, her feet tucked under the cushions and her hands under her cheek.

"Pretty Girl?"

No answer, she remains perfectly still as I slowly close the distance between us and as if she can feel my hand hovering near her Brooke shifts slightly towards me as I reach over her to grab the throw rug over the couch. My hand stills, she settles down and I cover her gently before placing a soft kiss on her forehead, my fingers grazing her hair.

"_Hmmm" _Brooke mumbles moving slightly closer to me but not waking up.

Before I leave her I turn the mute TV off and then head upstairs, closing my eyes I blindly wall towards our room, unbuttoning my suit shirt as I go. A warm shower would be heaven right now, to wash away the sweat and aches and years from my body.

On autopilot I strip and end up under the warm spray, barely able to remember the moves that got me here. It's a few seconds before my mind starts to wake up, I rub at my skin paying close attention to my left shoulder massaging the old wound, the muscles under my fingers are tight and I can't reach them the way I want to.

The longer I stand under the shower the cooler the water gets, when the room stops steaming I decide it's time to get back to the real world. Once the water is off I step out and straight away grab a towel, patting myself dry and wrapping the towel around my waist, grabbing my other towel I start to dry my hair as I enter the bedroom again.

It's lighter, the bedside lamp is on even though I hadn't done it – I don't think I did anyway. Giving my hair a last shake I throw the towel over onto the bed and then arms wrap around my waist from my back.

"Late night?" Brooke's husky whisper rolls down my spine and then she places a small kiss on the back of my shoulder.

I moan, "yeah. How was yours?"

Suddenly her warmth at my back is gone, I turn, "Brooke?"

My wife grabs my hand and leads me to the bed, she forces me to sit at the edge and before I can say anything Brooke's crawled around me and is at my back again, "_Broo-_" her names fades from my lips as her hands go to my shoulder, right to where my muscles are tight and aching, "oh"

"Feel good?" I can hear the smile in her voice.

I can't even speak, slowly she works my muscles loose, her hands straying down my back and then returning to my shoulders. How many nights has she been on her knees on our bed, her hands working they're magic? "You've got the healing touch"

"Hmmm" she mumbles noncommittally.

My eyes close, "as amazing as this is… what are you avoiding telling me?"

Her hands don't stop as she starts, "you have to promise not to freak"

"I'm feeling calm at the moment"

She doesn't say anything, her massage stops and then it starts again and Brooke says quickly "Sawyer moved back in" and her hand digs deeply into my shoulder blade.

Wait, what?

And then what really matters comes to mind, not that Sawyer has moved in but the question why my beautifully rebellious and independent daughter has abandoned her freedom for a doorless room under her parents watchful eyes.

"I take it you and Sawyer talked?" let Brooke open up to me. She'll get to it eventually. I open one eye and wait, Brooke's hands become gentler and her face leans in closer causing her hair to brush my cheek. I shiver.

"It was amazing Luke, she really opened up to me, it… it was like before everything happened, we spent hours just talking and I think, I really, _really _think she's going to change"

Leaning forward I twist around and shift so I'm sitting on the bed facing Brooke, "that's great" but then I narrow my eyes, "and the reason you think I'd 'freak' about this is…?"

"Okay something happened today and I know I should have called you but with everything happening I thought I needed to focus on Sawyer and Luke it was like I finally got my daughter back and I know it was selfish but-" her babbling was hard to keep track off, I stop her by placing a finger over her lips. She stops and just looks at me with her big brown eyes.

I shake my head indulgently, "I get it. Now tell me what happened" and then I move my finger and grab her hand, I don't know why I do it I just feel like that is what I should be doing right now. As if, if I let go the ground will disappear from under me, she's my foundation at the moment.

"Sawyer's in trouble"

I've never heard those words before, Sawyer _is _trouble is familiar but in trouble, what could be so different that it's gotten this reaction from Brooke and driven Sawyer to moving back into the family home.

The thoughts race through my mind, I stumble over the words "In trouble, is she pregnant?"

"Oh god I hope not," Brooke mumbles under her breath and then she's gripping my hands, staring into my eyes and gives a small shake of her head.

My heart begins to drop but I don't speak.

"She's been doing drugs and not just special brownies if you know what I mean" she makes a face that seems way to comical at the moment, my heads still trying to process how serious this is when Brooke continues in a graver tone, "that_ boyfriend_ of hers has been supplying Sawyer with anything he can get his hands on, he's… he's a monster Lucas, I came home today and found him-" she stops and gulps "-I'm just thankful we were here, I swear he would have killed her if I didn't stop him"

And there goes the ground, then the rest of the world.

Her eyes are hard as she sees my reaction, strong and certain she adds on "I took care of it"

Then Brooke tells me everything that happened while I was gone today.

"And she's fine? Really?" I ask at the end.

Brooke smiles, "Edward gave her the all clear, she's bruised and sore but thankfully nothing is broken, her wrist is pretty bad though. But I don't think she's fine, not at the moment, she's got a long way to go before we can say that"

"I can't believe this, I knew she was getting more wild but _drugs_ and letting this jerk into her life"

"I know, I know"

Standing I swipe my hands through my hair, "remind me again why we aren't strangling her?"

She hides a smile and I'm betting she's thinking the same thing half the time even as she defends Sawyer. As I pace by Brooke again she garbs my hand and stands, forcing me to stop, "because we've threatened her before, we've yelled and grounded to our hearts content and here we are. We've been hard on her and we've been easy on her and now I think the best thing to do is just be _there _for her"

It just sounds too easy and Brooke can read the doubt in my eyes, she tugs my hand "trust me, Lucas. For the first time in a long time she's listening, really listening, we can push her away by being hard on her or we can try something different, maybe expecting more from her"

"And if it doesn't work?"

Brooke moves in closer, soaking up all my worry in her arms as she hugs my stiff body, "everyone deserves a second chance, if anyone knows that we do. No matter how far we fall" and at her hopeful words I begin to relax.

But there's one more thing, I frown "and this Van character, are we just going to let him get away with this?"

"He hurt our daughter there's no way in hell he's getting away with it" her voice is steel, "We might not be able to get him for Sawyer but after the anonymous tip a certain officer got about oh two hours ago I have a feeling Van's career choice is going to backfire on him"

When Brooke says she'll take care of something she doesn't pull punches especially for our family. I kiss her, "I love you, you know that?"

"Good because I kind of love you too" and this time she kisses me, pulling away she mumbles "now go talk to Sawyer and tell her you love her"

I do as she says but when I get to our doorway something stops me, I turn back around and find Brooke sitting on the bed looking at the floor, "Brooke" she looks up when I say her name. I try to convey everything I feel in my words, my love and my regret "I'm sorry that I did this to us"

She smiles and shakes her head, "I was there too Lucas. It was just as much my fault, when are you going to stop apologizing for what happened"

"I can't forget that I nearly lost you" I won't, not for one second. This pain has been inside me for so long that I know longer cry with the memories but each time that picture flashes in my mind the same deep pain and fear hits me.

"I'm still here" and with her eyes watching me I nod and walk away from her because I can't hold on if I see the look in her eyes she gets when she remembers too.

From my past I know how easy it is to push too far, to get to the point that you're hanging on by a thin thread, that each moment counts at times like this. A few words can be all that is between the end and a new beginning, and even then changes may be for the worse.

And you can't take them back. No matter you say you cannot unsay what has been said, it's out there forever.

Earlier I hadn't even thought to look in Sawyer's room, I am so use to it being empty but now I can hear the faint sound coming from her room, that of music so loud I can hear it through Sawyers headphones.

Sure enough when I stop inside her room Sawyer is on her bed, records spread around her, lying down her eyes are shut but her chin is moving to the beat of whatever song is blaring from her IPod.

She doesn't know I'm here until I sit on her bed causing it to dip, in a flash Sawyer's eyes snapped open and she sat up. Hooking one finger around her earphones she pulled them out of her ears, I could now hear the lyrics of the song enough to distinguish about every second word.

"Dad, you're home" Sawyer gives a shaky smile. My heart feels sore as I look at her face, her lip is swollen and cut, her left cheek doesn't match her right and there are new and old bruises in various shades of colour. As I stare at her she suddenly looks down, "it's not as bad as it looks"

"Does it hurt?" I ask anyway.

"Kinda but no pain no gain, right" she laughs and then winces, touching her lip. And though her beautiful face is currently marked there is a hopeful sparkle in her eyes, a light in them I haven't seen all year.

"I've been instructed not to yell at you," I finally say and Sawyer's lip curls up.

"You can if it'll make you feel better, I can take it" she pauses and then adds on blithely "but hold the punches"

"Sawyer" I shake my head. This just seems so unreal.

"I know, I know. Too soon but see I'm not so fragile, this won't break me hey it'll make me stronger, so you can hug me and I won't flinch" and the moment the words our out of her mouth I'm leaning forward and pulling her into a hug, I am scared to hurt her but it feels good to hold her again.

Mumbling into her hair I hold back the tears, "do you have any idea how much you mean to us?"

"Yeah"

For a long time I just hold her, then Sawyer awkwardly pats my shoulder in a _there, there _way, "so…"

I reluctantly let go and find myself staring at my daughter again. Sawyer rolls her eyes "you are worse than mom"

"It's this or yelling" I tell her calmly though it's a lie. I am too exhausted and relieved to be raising my voice at the moment because despite it all Sawyer actually looks happy, I search her eyes "is it over?"

For a second her narrow blue eyes shadow over and then they go back to normal, she nods, touches her lip again and then quickly puts her hand down, "I want it to be. That's why he's so angry at me because I ended things" she gives a bitter laugh "Van doesn't like being told no"

"We're not going to let him near you ever again"

At my promise Sawyer lets out a breath and then this time it is her who hugs me. As her arms wrap around me I know why Brooke's anger was held back, why yelling is not an option, it's as simple as we have a chance to get our daughter back, the one who use to smile easily at us, the one who told her mother her secrets and jumped into her fathers arms. It is an amazing feeling.

"Thank you, Dad. For being you, for not killing me for this"

I just hug her harder, "everyone deserves a second chance"

"Yeah…" she slowly pulls away, her hands still lightly touching me "about how I reacted the other night, I'm sorry, I don't hate you. Mom explained everything" she just looks at me before asking sincerely "why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"I guess I didn't want to burden you, you have had to take on so much that you never should have had to. In our own misguided way I thought we were protecting you"

Her sore lip curls up slightly again, her eyes have a dark twinkle "I guess that's something else we have in common"

Silence isn't the right way to protect the ones we love, building walls between them and us in an attempt to protect others, and vice versa, hasn't protected them all it has done is built those walls. If maybe we hadn't started with the half truths and secrets all those years ago perhaps Sawyer would have felt she could come to us sooner, perhaps Abby would have done the same.

The twisted webs we weave. I've held onto the guilt and fear, all the pain, for seven long years afraid to speak aloud what we did, trying in silence to redeem my biggest regret, eating away at me and the man I could have been. Brooke asked me how long it would take for me to stop apologizing and I ask every day how long it will take for me to forget. There is a quote by Benjamin Franklin, _'How few there are who have courage enough to own their faults, or resolution enough to mend them.' _

…_Seven years ago…_

The motel room is empty, lifeless, it holds no memories and looking at the impersonal surroundings I miss home even more. I miss my wife, I miss falling to sleep with her body in my arms, waking to her smile and I just miss every second of our life together.

It has been six long weeks since I walked out taking Sawyer with me, it took me less than twenty four hours to want to go home but in my stubbornness and my still burning anger I stopped myself and each day I keep stopping myself. I want _Brooke _to tell me to come home; I want her to _want _me with her, to _need _me with her. Hell, I want to just erase the whole fight but at the same time I don't. Taking back the words won't change the truth in them.

Brooke calls me every day, and every day I answer and I ask hopefully what she wants, each time she answers with the same reply. _I want to talk to Sawyer_. And jealous, bitter, disappointed and frustrated I deny her every single time. When she calls when I am with Sawyer I ignore my vibrating phone and I avoid the watchful eyes of my daughter who waits expectedly, the girl who looks hopefully around after school and then her smile drops the moment she sees its my car picking her up again.

These blank walls taunt me with everything I don't have at the moment. I get out my phone in preparation, I sit here on the bed until I lose track of time. Today differs because Brooke hasn't called yet, has she given up? Will she be more determined next time? No matter the reason for her sudden silence I feel it like a slap in the face because hearing her voice no matter how angry she sounded was what I looked forward to every single day, from one to the next.

I should be at work though the truth is all the family photos proudly on display taunt me even more than this room. At this moment with the absence of Brooke's call I long for something so I get up planning to head to my office near the school gym, I am half way through the car park when my phone vibrates.

Excitement bubbled up and I try to remain calm as I grab my phone from my pocket and answer the call, "Brooke?"

"Would you talk to me if I was?" Haley's voice comes across.

I stop, "Hi Haley" the disappointment in my tone obvious.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic. Sorry, Romeo, but I am actually calling about Brooke but I guess this means she's not with you"

"No"

"I was hoping she was-" Haley sighs "-it's not that I mind looking after Abby, she keeps Ty distracted its just she said she would take them to school today and she never showed. I dropped them off but now she's not answering her cell or the home phone and it's not like Brooke. I was hoping you and your wife were sorting out your problems instead" her rambling ends in another sigh. In the last three weeks I have had a lot of lectures from Haley, Nathan and Mom, no doubt Brooke is getting much of the same. Stubborn and foolish are two words that are getting repeated a lot.

I go over what Haley said again. She is right, it is not like Brooke to say she would do something and then not show _especially _if it is to do with one of the kids. On top of that my mind wanders to the fact Brooke still hasn't called today to check on Sawyer.

"I'll give the hospital a call and see if she's there" I mumble off thinking that is the only explanation for Brooke's silence today.

"That was the first thing I did, they haven't seen her since last night"

Suddenly I feel sick with apprehension, quickening my steps I start jogging to my car already getting my keys out, "Hales, I'm going to swing by the house, call me if you hear from Brooke"

"Luke-" she begins and is cut off when I hang up and shove my phone back in my pocket, the door opens under my trembling fingers and soon the car is starting.

…

The red roses greet me, blooming in season in all their beauty. The thought is so fleeting as I park outside my _home_, the house I have not been welcome in for weeks. Even as I close the distance between my car and the front door I am calling Brooke, phone to my ear, my eyes straying to her car before going back to the door.

I get her message bank, "shit" and shove my phone back into my pocket replacing them with my keys, the door unlocks with a familiar click.

"Brooke" I step inside, I reach the stairs "Brooke, answer me"

Music floats from upstairs but otherwise the house is silent and still, all lights are off, blinds closed. The song is drifting from our room with the door slightly open and I finally see some light.

It's strange this feeling that fills me, I know rationally that I am practically jogging to that door yet it feels like I am dragging my feet, it feels like long minutes instead of the two seconds it actually takes me to get to the room.

My hand goes out pushing the door wider and at the same time I enter the room. It must be a split second I stand there, someone starts screaming. It's not until I'm across the room picking my wife up my throat sore that I realise the person screaming is me, "_Broooooooke" _I scream again.

She looks like she could be sleeping, so peaceful and still, except I know my wife and I know the unnatural way she laid upon our bed was not normal. I could ignore the bottle of pills by her bed however their picture won't leave my mind, "Brooke what have you done, what have you done" I begin to cry holding onto her tighter.

Think, Lucas, think!

Clinging to Brooke with one arm I pull out my phone again, dialling 911, "please help me, my wife, my wife isn't waking up, you have to help"

"Calm down, sir-"

Calm down! It is impossible. Ignoring that instruction I quickly say our address, she asks what happened and shaking I confess about the pill bottle next to the bed, I read the name and at the back of my mind take in the fact they are the sleeping pills Brooke had been prescribed after Keith was diagnosed again.

I drop the phone, not caring if I had disconnected the call or not, I need both arms around Brooke.

Soon her body starts convulsing and I just manage to turn her on her side when she vomits for the first time. I am holding on for dear life, this time literally.

The sirens can be heard in the distance and I know they are coming, "hold on Brooke" I say to her, pleading with whatever god is up there and to my unconscious wife, for her to wake up.

When I hear them even closer I carefully pick up Brooke, her neck rolls against my shoulder and at the lifeless act my heart beats one hard thump. The sirens get louder and my feet get faster. Her arm falls to the side and there goes my heart again.

By the time the ambulance pulls into our front yard I am waiting, reluctantly I let Brooke go "please do something" _I can't lose her too._

Somehow I am in the back of the ambulance with her and we're racing towards the hospital where our son's life already hangs in the balance.

…

Washing my hands in the basin I then splash my face and look up into the mirror, my pale face stares back at me. A hand touches my shoulder, "you okay?"

"No" I hiss at Haley, "I am not okay"

My wife took an overdose of sleeping pills, no one knows if it was accidental or on purpose, I watched her stomach getting pumped, I watched helplessly unable to help her and now I have to wait.

Wait for her to wake up, wait to see if this has done irrevocable damage to her organs. Just wait.

If I had just _been _there.

What was she thinking?

I am so damn angry and so damn relieved she is okay at the same time.

Tears burn my eyes, my elbows hit the vanity and everything just come sat me in waves. Haley hugs me from behind but her arms are not the ones I crave, her comfort is not what I need.

I need my wife.

…

It has been twenty-two long hours by her bedside, the others drop in occasionally with worry and the faintest glimmer of pity in their eyes, and as grateful as I am for all they are doing I prefer being alone with Brooke. She wouldn't want them to see her like this.

Haley and Nathan are still looking after Abby, she is happily oblivious to what is happening and I plan to keep it that way. As for Sawyer I am trying to act normal around her, the last thing I want is for her to find out about what Brooke did.

When I picked her up from school yesterday I had seen the light die in her eyes once she saw me again and the last thing I want to do is tell her Brooke is in hospital, they've always been so close. Luckily she didn't ask questions when I dropped her off at Mom's, if Brooke isn't awake by the time I have to pick Sawyer up again I don't know what I'll do or say.

I don't know anything at the moment.

The doctors have been great and the hospital has managed to keep Brooke's condition out of the media, sadly we're in this hospital so often it's not news. It's assumed when we walk inside these doors it is because of Keith.

I swipe my hands over my face.

Thankfully Brooke hasn't damaged her kidneys or liver, we got to her in time, it could have been a lot worse. I am now thinking like there is no doubt she did this on purpose, I shake the thought away. I try not to think it but there is something that tells me that Brooke wouldn't have an accident like this, at the same time the amount of drugs found in her system don't seem to add up to a suicide attempt. I want so badly to believe this was just an accident. For Brooke's sake, for the kids and selfishly for mine because I can't stop blaming myself and from what Haley has told me Brooke hasn't been coping well.

What was _I _thinking?

…

Sawyer stands waiting under the tree, she's not searching the cars gaining closer and closer instead she's staring aimlessly at the road not really seeing anything. There is no surprise or disappointment in her features when she recognises my car, slowly Sawyer detaches from her group of friends and comes to my car. I lean over an unlock the door and prepare myself to act normal, to not act like I am scared out of my mind, to not act like I have both my son and wife in hospital.

There are no questions. Sawyer doesn't ask me where we are going with slight hope wondering if I'm going to take her home, there's nothing. I'm too distracted to comment on it, too distracted to really soak it in. I am thankful at this moment that she is making it easy.

Instead of getting in the car Sawyer looks at me, I can barely meet her eyes.

"Can I go to Sharni's house?"

And so I take the easy way out, I say yes and nod. Then I lie to my daughter, not looking at her face my eyes are on the road ahead of me, "why don't you stay the night" pause "Keith has had a turn so I'm going to be at the hospital most of the night"

I'm going to be with your mother, she has been asleep for over a day and I don't know what is going to happen.

I don't say it.

I'm scared.

I don't say that either.

I need my family back.

But Sawyer's already gone before I can follow through with that one so it goes unsaid as well, so I start the car and start driving until I end up at our house. I stop the car though I can't get out, I cannot enter that house again and I know if I do I will see it all over again.

There is only one place I really want to be, so I go to my wife.

…

Thirty-three hours.

My hand is cramping from where I'm holding onto Brooke's hand, every now and then I think her fingers twitch in mine and then when I look nothing, so now I'm going crazy. She's as still as ever.

It happens again, this time I don't look up.

"Brooke, come back to me" I whisper lifting her fingers to my lips, and then it happens again. Her fingers twitch under my lips. I freeze, I am not sure whether to believe it or not.

"Brooke?"

It is not until I open my eyes that I realise I had shut them, when I look at Brooke's face she looks asleep. I hold my breath.

Her lashes flutter but remain closed. "Brooke?"

I stand up and lean over the bed, still gripping her hand "Pretty Girl, please open your eyes"

Then a miracle happens, slowly but surely Brooke opens her eyes.

For a moment she looks around confused, her eyes going to her IV and then around the room until she looks at me.

My fingers pressing the button for the doctor, my mouth is spreading in a grin, my world is becoming bright again, "Brooke, thank god"

"Lucas?" she croaks. It's the best sound ever.

…

It is almost an hour before I am alone with Brooke again, she looks so dazed and there is a wary look as she meets my eyes.

"Brooke…" I fight to find the words.

She looks away, her hands lying straight by her side, her beautiful hazel eyes staring up at the ceiling, "I didn't mean to, I just wanted to sleep. I was so tired, I was just so tired" and she starts crying.

My eyes close once more, I reach for her hand and hold it to my heart as I lean over her and carefully hug her. For a moment Brooke doesn't move, she just cries before using her free arm to hug me back.

And this time when I promise never to let her go again I mean it, there is no way I will lose her. This is our second chance and as soon as this is over I'm taking my family home, all of us, the way it is meant to be.

-x-

_Another day, another sunrise  
Washing over everything  
In its time, love will be mine  
The beauty and the tragedy_

_For I am finding out that love will kill and save me_  
_Taking the dreams that made me up_  
_And tearing them away_  
_But the same love will take this heart that's barely beating_  
_And fill it with hope beyond the stars_  
_Only love_  
_Only love, love, love_

_For I am finding out that love will kill and save me_

- The Beauty and the Tragedy, _Trading Yesterday_


	27. Here Comes the

**Disclaimer: I do not own or have any rights to One Tree Hill, My Sisters Keeper, Peter Pan or any songs in this fic. I do own a rather unhealthy curiosity with OTH and its characters and like to play with them, in a totally non pervy way of course. Please don't sue me, it's all just for fun.**

**Ooh, so… right, this is the awkward moment when I have to probably mention the fact I haven't updated for a while… I can't even remember the last time I did but I'm pretty sure I said I would get this story back on track, and then I didn't. I'm not gonna make some excuse, I have a life so I can't just write on demand and I don't want to with this fic, I write MBK when I feel it and the chapter. This one took a while. Until today when I just started and finished. But please read and if anyone still cares let me know, chances are I won't stop this story simply because I love writing these characters and this sl and have to see it played out but it would be nice if I knew if I'd lost you all or not. Anyway here is is… **

_Here comes the heartache, the move out date_  
_Excuses for my friends_  
_Here comes the reasons I have to justify_  
_It was better in the end_

_Here comes the last time I'm gonna kiss you_  
_The first night sleeping alone_  
_Here comes the hardest thing_  
_We've ever known_

_Well, I know that you're sleeping_  
_I can always hear you breathe_  
_Don't you think it's about time that we talked?_

_I hear you've got a bad feeling and I feel, I do agree_  
_And I know how hard it is to be the easiest thing to love_  
_And making love will never mean enough_

_So here comes the heartache, the move out date_  
_Excuses for my friends_  
_Here comes the reasons I have to justify_  
_It was better in the end_

_Here comes the last time I'm gonna kiss you_  
_And the first night eating alone_  
_Here comes the hardest thing_  
_We've ever known_

_You went away for the weekend_  
_So we can figure some things out_  
_How the hell did it ever come to blows?_

_Some people find happiness_  
_Others are happy to find one more reason_  
_Not to ever give love or give it in return_  
_No, you can't lose fire when there's nothing left to burn_

-x-

Chapter Twenty Seven

_*Allie*_

Have you ever wanted to just pause your life?

Wouldn't it just be so much simpler if we had remote controls that could pause, rewind and fast-forward our lives, the ability to skip what we wanted or better yet go back and change the things we regret? Right now I would call pause.

I guess there in no such thing as a time out in the real world. We can pretend but the truth is time is always moving forward, it is endless. Something I have learnt is time is the one thing there's an unlimited amount of yet there is never enough. It's not times fault - it's us. It is because we're not endless. From the moment we take our first breath the countdown begins to our last.

Time is precious, we all knew it but that didn't stop us wasting it. We'd fight like any friends, and even Keith and I would argue, so many times I wanted to just turn away and leave him because the anger and frustration got too much. Sometimes dealing with Keith is like how I imagine dealing with parents or an older sibling would be, this person who looks out for you who had all this extra experience and talks as if they know what is right and best for you even if it's not what you think. Which is great, the problem is they tend to be right. Dealing with someone who is always right can become frustrating. Keith is one of the most realistic yet optimistic people I have ever met, he sees the world for what it is, the good and the bad yet nothing tarnishes the beauty for him. I on the other hand… well, I use to be lost in a dark hole, where the light was too far away I lost sight of hope, of beauty. It's a duller world, I wasn't able to attach like others.

Keith is like a drug to me; he pulls me back, drags me in and allows me to touch this bright, hopeful world I wouldn't be able to otherwise. He's addictive and the withdrawal was hell. Still is.

There was only so long I could ever stay mad at Keith or him at me, then we'd be face to face again and one of us would call pause.

_I call pause_. And we'd be in each other's arms again, safe and warm and loved, and everything else, the pettiness, would fade away. And then we'd press play on it again but it wouldn't be the same, we'd be at a different place and able to solve whatever got between us.

He got me. He just _knew _and understood me in a way others tried to and failed, even when he didn't agree he understood. You know that aggravation when someone tries to read you and they just get it _so _wrong, they've got all the right facts, they know everything they need to and still they can't seem to match the pieces together because they are so focused on how _they _would think or feel, or how _they think _you would and it's just _no, you are wrong_. My parents are like that, and even Sawyer and the others would sometimes just be so off but Keith…

I never really believed in soul mates until I met him, it is like I knew the moment I saw him that he was a missing part of me and I wouldn't be complete without him. It's scary. It's beyond scary.

What happens to me when he's gone?

I never really dealt with that question until I lost Zane and it all became so much more real. Before my brother died I never truly believed I would lose Keith but if ane could be gone so quickly then Keith could be next and losing my brother nearly destroyed me, losing Keith… losing him would be the end of me. How would I survive without that missing part I had finally found, how do I go back to my life?

In my grief I thought if I just ended it, if I ended it on _my _terms, it wouldn't be as heartbreaking. I could control the fallout. And maybe it was a way I could lie to myself, I could pretend that Keith was as alive and 'happy' as me. If I never knew he was gone then maybe he wasn't and that missing part of me would still be there.

I don't know, I can't explain it. I was stupid, I was young and stupid and dealing with things I was not prepared for. I still am. I am fifteen. I look at my classmates, at the foolish girls who talk too loud and flirt with boys and they are so carefree, they have the rest of their lives to find themselves and the one for them. Even the quieter girls, the ones who fade into the background still have so many years to figure their lives out.

So here I am fifteen, I've pretty much raised myself and my brother, I lost my brother, I find the love of my life and he's dying too. I know what and who I want, and I know what and who I want to be. Wasting time at anything else seems so pointless.

Which is why I'm still here at this damn hospital. Because I can't waste the time I have, because I can't close my eyes and pretend about Keith when I can be with him, love him, watch him smile, watch him brood, watch him sleep, watch him wake, see the wonder in his eyes when he finishes a book… I could go forever. Mostly I don't want to miss one second with the boy I love if I don't have to.

I robbed myself of too many months, and fate may take him from me at any moment so the present is all we may have.

Except he doesn't want to see me, has been quite vocal about keeping me out. He seemed so angry and I get that, I do. I walked away and hurt him but I'm back and I know sorry isn't good enough but I am sorry and I don't know what else to say. How else to show it.

But I am not going anyway and I will stay here until he lets me back in, what do I have to lose?

I've already lost or given up everything. Or never had it.

…

The hours drag. With nothing but my own thoughts to distract me minutes can stretch on like days, hours feel like weeks. I have short naps though I still feel tired, I should eat but I can't find it in myself to be hungry. I don't remember the last time I went to the toilet. I haven't left this hallway since I first sat at this seat. The furthest I go is to Keith's doorway but I am never allowed in, a nurse quickly stops me entering though none have gone as far as forcing me to leave.

I probably have Ash to thank for that, Nurse Ashleigh has a subtle power in this hospital and she's always looked out for us. She's one of the reasons visiting hours mean squat to anyone coming to see Keith Scott – like me. Any time day or night. Sure Brooke and Lucas practically owning the hospital by now has something to do with it but still Ash is a huge part of it as well.

It's getting later. The hospital is practically dead, no pun intended. The staff has thinned, I feel less eyes on me, less nurses looking out for Keith. I know it's my chance to try to sneak in and maybe this time I can convince Keith not to scream the place down.

Checking to my right and left I notice that I can't see anyone, which is a total plus because that means nobody can see me. My legs practically shaking I get up and stand for a moment and double check again before running across to the door.

The doorhandle moves under the slightest of pressure and with a sigh of relief I am in, I manage to get in with no fuss and find Keith sleeping. It's breathtaking but not in good way. For a moment, just the briefest second, seeing him like that made me question if I was too late, if Keith was dead. It's not rational he could just be gone without nurses and doctors rushing to his side, but for a moment rational didn't enter my mind.

Then it comes back. All the evidence hits me and I know he's fine; he's alive for now.

This Keith in front of me is different. He's… he's…

Something chokes me.

He looks closer to death than ever before.

The world needs Keith Scott. It doesn't make sense that he could be taken from it, how can something so unfair make sense, how can it be justified?

What god could do this to him?

The closer I get the more I notice. His skin is off white, he's lost weight and I swear he's lost it even from the last time I saw him, though his face is swollen. He looks uncomfortable. My fingers go to my mouth.

I must have made a sound because without opening his eyes Keith goes "I told you to go" and just the way he speaks I know his throat is sore. He's been sick more than usual today.

"You look like shit" and I take the empty seat by his side.

"Charming as always" he chuckles but his hand is going for the button that will call the nurses, I grab it instead and his eyes open. They lock straight on me. The green in his eyes stand out more but still they drag me in, my heart does a little jump.

"You're not meant to be here"

"You're meant to be asleep" I shoot back.

His lips twitch, "I can't sleep"

"Would you like me to read to you?" I ask. With my free hand I grab one of the books by his side holding my breath with each passing second that he doesn't snatch his hand away.

When I see the familiar title I smile, open it to the first page and awkwardly try to hold the book without letting him go "All children, except one, grow up."

"You don't have to do this" Keith cuts in and I look up from the book, it's like I've gone back a year.

It's my turn to smile, "I don't mind, I want to"

Pain flashes in his eyes and he blinks. I turn the book over and with both my hands I grip his and pull his fist to my lips. Shifting closer on the chair I kiss his knuckles, one gentle kiss and then another further up. He sighs and his fist loosens. I turn Keith's hand over and open his palm, kissing the soft but clammy skin there.

My eyelashes flutter shut, it's like I can feel his breath against me as we sit here in the quiet, the soft sounds of his machines and our breathing the only noise.

I can't believe what Brooke said; I can't accept that this is it. That this is how his story ends.

"You should go"

I want to slap him for saying that but I just put his hand against my cheek and take a deep breath, "No, I shouldn't"

"Allie, please"

He's suffering and knowing my being here is hurting him almost makes me want to leave. I open my eyes, "is that what you really want?"

Those eyes start dancing around the room, looking anywhere but at me, I entwine our fingers and his chest goes up in one rough movement before he releases his breath.

"Is it?" I ask again, sure that it can't be.

Finally he looks at me again, "Allie, it's not that I don't want you here-" I grin at his words "- I do. Selfishly I want to hold on and never let go. I want to lose myself in you and a part of me doesn't care if it hurts you, the other part can't do it" and he tugs at his hand, I don't let go.

He tugs again, his eyes pleading, "I don't want to be the reason for your pain-"

"As sweet as that is, shut up" I manage to shock him enough that his mouth closes. I become more determined "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere-"

"But _I _might"

"And I don't care" I say quickly, clutching his hand between mine. Doesn't he get it? "I was stupid, I love you too much to make this easy for us, it's not easy. It hurts but I would rather the pain of being with you through this over not being with you. And you just have to deal with it"

So there.

"It's all or none of us, remember?" I bring his hand to my chest, "we stick together. And I got lost for a while but I'm back, please, just let me back in. We can sort it out okay, I call pause" tears start to fall from my eyes and his blank expression, "I call pause" I repeat.

"Allie" he whispers sounding sorry and I know he's going to tell me to go _again_, this time he won't scream it. This time he will just say it.

"_NO!_ I won't go"

He pulls his hand from mine and before I can even react he touches my cheek and I bury my cheek into his palm again, "I hate seeing you cry" he whispers and I try to smile but more sobs come from me.

"I'm sorry"

"No, I'm sorry" I say, shaking my head "this is so not your fault. But I will fix it" I try to straighten up, wiping at my eyes, "I can talk to Abby, I can… I can… we can figure this out"

"Allie" his voice stops me and something about his tone when he sighs my name completely freezes me. Our eyes lock again, he staring straight at me, "before we do this there is something I need to tell you"

"What?"

There's this feeling inside me, it's building up in my gut and slowly crawling its way up. Something like fear. Something like a premonition.

Eyes not leaving mine he says one word, "everything"

And I know my life has just changed again.

I wait and then I nod, is the room getting darker or is that just me?

"It's me"

I don't understand what he is saying and he must see it because he starts over.

"It's not Abby, it's me. The court case - It's me" he says it like it's nothing but the room is closing in, the world is somehow smaller, louder, darker, it's swallowing me. I can't breathe.

"I'm dying. I know that, we all know it but we keep fighting it and it's destroying everything and everyone I love. My family… you…. I need to stop it"

"_Stop it_" I whisper shocked. I don't know if I'm telling him to shut up or if I'm just repeating his words. I don't understand any of this. How could he?

How could he do this to us?

Shaking I start backing up, the chair falls over, my back hits the wall behind me and then I am stepping forward. Anger spilling out "is that your excuse, you're doing it for us?"

Damn it. I'm crying again, my face feels hot and I just can't stop it, "is this you being selfless, is that your excuse for giving up!" I point my finger at him "that's what you're doing, you are giving up on you and you're giving up on all of us"

"Someone has to do it" he actually says it with a straight face, "someone has to let go"

"And we're meant to be what, grateful?" I scream, "is that what I should tell your parents when you die and they can't stop crying, that you did it for _them_" he flinches and I keep going "and Abby, is that what I tell her? When everyone blames her, when she blames her, should I tell her to just let go, that she should be grateful your not her problem any more"

He doesn't say anything and I stand there in disbelief, angry and mad and pissed off and on the verge of tears for the third time since entering this room. Am I breathing? I don't know if I am. I don't know if this is real. This can't be real.

This is not Keith but _it is _so _him_.

"BE SELFISH" I scream, my arm hits out and I grab the closest thing and throw it at the wall behind it.

"FINE" he yells back and he sits up, his pain momentarily gone and though he's yelling his voice is still quite low and it's more raspy than it usually is, "_I'm _tired" he continues, "Every day everything hurts, every day. _I'm _tired, _I'm _dying, _I _can't do it anymore"

He glares at me.

"Is that a good enough excuse for you?" he whispers or croaks, his voice giving out on him and then he's struggling to breathe.

My anger fades and I am running to his side.

And then I'm where I'm meant to be, I am by his side, my arms around him and by the time he's back to normal I'm sitting on the bed with him. Holding Keith as he holds me with the both of us breaking apart.

I knew it. I knew he'd break my heart someday. I just never imagined we'd have any sort of choice in it.

"I'm sorry," I tell him over and over again. I'm not sure why I'm saying it, what I am sorry for or even if I am just sorry for myself. Maybe it's a bit of everything.

How long we stay like this I don't know, "what do we do now?" I ask when our crying stops and we're simply clinging to each other, finding comfort together despite everything.

"We stick together"

I look up and see Abby at the door, and she steps inside as her words hover around us. Tyler enters behind her, his face harder, colder. I see my confusion and anger in his face clear for everyone to see. He's not hiding how he feels and there's a tension in the air as his eyes meet Keith's, "did you tell her the truth?"

I nod before Keith can answer his cousin's question.

"You gonna let him pull this bullshit?" Ty looks from Keith to me and I don't know what to say, and Abby and Keith both go to say something. Moving out of Abby's reach Ty frowns, "No, somebody has to see sense. This is crazy" he glares at Keith, "you're mental if you think this game is going to help anything, it's going to suck no matter how it happens. You talk about sticking together but what about all or none of us?"

Abby tries to reach her cousin again but Ty holds his hands out of reach, he faces Keith.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you kill yourself" and then he turns his back on us and walks away.

"Ty wait!" I scream and for a moment I think about following him but Abby shakes her head, "it's okay, he's… he'll… he needs time"

I nod and relax against Keith but I can't help but agree with Ty. But am I being selfish? Do I want to fight this decision for my sake not Keith's?

Who are any of us doing this for?

All I know is where I need to be, with Keith, I guess we just have to wing it with everything else.

Abby wrings her hands together as she gets closer to the bed, "are we doing the right thing?" its like she can read my mind.

"I don't know" Keith doesn't lie. He moves and gestures with one hand for Abby to join us, soon the three of us are lying together on the bed, "I love you guys, that's what I know" he kisses both our heads as if it is all just that simple.

There are so many things I want to say, things I want to ask but I keep my thoughts to myself, we all do. Soon my eyes are getting heavier, and just before I fall to sleep I hear Keith start talking "All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, 'Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!' This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end…

-x-

_So here comes the heartache, the move out date_  
_Excuses for my friends_  
_Here comes the reasons I have to justify_  
_It was better in the end_

_Here comes the last time I'm gonna kiss you_  
_And the first night drinking alone_  
_Here comes the hardest thing_  
_We've ever known_

_All I wanted to do_  
_Was do what you wanted, needed_  
_But that never did much for me in the end_  
_All that we've gotta do is wait it out_

_So this is the heartache, the move out date_  
_Excuses for my friends_  
_These are the reasons I have to justify_  
_It was better in the end_

_This is the last time I'm gonna kiss you_  
_And the first night eating alone_  
_This is the hardest thing, this is the hardest thing_  
_This is the hardest thing we've ever known_

_Well, I know that you're sleeping_  
_I can always hear you breathe_

_- _Here Comes the…, _Butch Walker_

**I fell in love with this song months ago and as soon as I heard it I thought of Keith and finally felt like I had a chapter that it could work with. Thank you for reading and thankyou to the reviewers. Until next time.**


	28. Holding On and Letting Go

**Disclaimer: still don't own anything.**

**I'll make this quick, thanks for the reviews and heres the new chap. For those who weren't around for mothers day theres a MBK mothers day oneshot that's Brucas/Sawyer its called 'Just the way you are' so a suggest checking it out. Thanks again and enjoy. Hugs, mickei**

_Is anybody out there?  
Is anybody listening?  
Does anybody really know  
If it's the end or the beginning?  
_

_The quiet rush from one breath  
Is all we're waiting for  
Sometimes I want my taking  
Changes everyone before_

_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't_  
_It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_  
_Some prayers find an answer_  
_Some prayers never know_  
_We're holding on, and letting go_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Eight

*_Keith_*

… _Three months ago_…

It happens again. I wake and feel the dampness between my legs, my boxers are sticking to my skin, the stain has spread through my sheets and I feel the wetness even under my back.

Like a robot I get up, strip and throw my pyjamas onto my soiled bed and head for the bathroom that connects to my room. It never use to. When I was younger the house had three bathrooms, other than the one connected to my parents room there was one downstairs and then upstairs. When I was eight and came out of remission again my parents renovated one of the rooms next to mine and created a bathroom for me. It was so I was closer to what I needed. If I was weak the bathroom didn't feel like it was miles away, when I was sick I could get cleaned up quicker, the list goes on.

My bath use to have a chair in it for me to sit, the showerhead comes off for easy use, these things are to make my life easier they are not meant to be demeaning. They are. It shouldn't bother me but the constant reminder that I am different does hit me. I am human. I have some pride.

I don't like having to rely on everyone else for everything, not just out of pride but because they shouldn't have to drop their lives for my sake. Over the last year I have become increasingly aware of how much a weight looking after me is for my family, since Allie broke up with me it's something I notice even more.

Getting into my bath-slash-shower I turn the hot water on but only softly so the water running can't be heard, shower head in hand I wash the urine off my body. Then I put it back up and stand under the weak spray and I grab the soap, once I feel completely clean I turn it off and get back out. I did this two nights ago, and soon I will have to do it again.

It doesn't take much to dry me. Bare foot and naked I return to my room and redress, on goes another pair of navy boxers and on goes another grey shirt, the red hoodie I pull on over me is just for comfort.

Next I gather up my clothes and sheets and carry them out of my room. The hall is dark and empty; everyone should be asleep so I don't pause on my way downstairs until I am at the washing machine.

Biting the inside of my cheek I get the top loader going and just when I'm about to leave something from outside catches my attention.

It's my dad. He's walking towards the garage, with slow steps, his head cocked and his hands in his pockets. The only thing he wears is the same pants he'd worn yesterday, no belt, no socks and no shirt.

I don't know why I follow him but by the time I make it to the back door and look outside he's standing in the garage doorway in the glow of the light from inside. Still barefoot I go outside, the paving cool under my feet, and start towards my dad. The closer I get the more I realise that he wasn't entering the garage, he was talking to someone.

"…inside. It's late. What are you doing in here anyway?"

It must be my mom. Only the two of them ever really go in the garage, sometimes they do talk to themselves in there but I doubt Dad would ask a ghost what they are doing. I don't hear the reply but dad chuckles "and you couldn't finish that downstairs" and he steps inside.

Closer I go to the window and look inside. Why am I spying on my parents?

Mom is sprawled in the comet, her legs stretched out with her feet on the dash, her head hanging over the seta as she looks behind her at my dad. There is a sketchbook in her hand and a big smile on her face; she winks at dad "I wanted Peyton's opinion"

"And what did she say?" he teases getting closer, leaning over my mother he rubs his nose against hers.

"She approves"

"Well… do you think she'd approve if your husband stole you back and carried you off to bed?"

"_Lucas_" Mom hisses as if afraid of whom would hear them but Dad just flings into action, before my eyes he scoops Mom up into his arms and her sketches fall into the car forgotten as Mom starts to laugh. I'm so entranced by their laughter that I have to duck down last minute when they leave the garage and walk right by me not that I should be worried. They are so busy looking at each other I would have to jump out and say '_boo' _to get their attention.

I stay where I am until they disappear into the house but I can still hear my mouth's laughter, I count to three before I head inside too. Before I turn to go check my sheets I see Dad's feet vanish on the staircase, my head turns between the view and then back to the door that will take me to the washing machine.

A thought pops into my head. What if they'd known I was awake, what if they knew why I was awake?

Would they be laughing and smiling then?

How many moments have I stolen from them, how many unseen what-might-have-beens never happened because they had to be there for me?

I know about the list. I found it in a box at the back of their wardrobe when I was twelve while Sawyer and I were searching for her Christmas present. It was a prediction list of what they wanted in their future, like New Year resolutions or something. Most of the items were written in different pens leading me to believe things have been added over the years not that there isn't other evidence. I just need to read the list. I still remember it and every item. The first thing on the list is _try again with Brooke_. The beginning of the list is all my dad's handwriting and mainly focuses on my mom, like _ask Brooke to marry me_, and then Mom joins in. Her first item is _get Lucas to be less broody _but the one after that is _lots of brothers and sisters for Sawyer_.

At first the list is hopeful and playful, things are scrawled over as they argue over what they want. I can even picture my parents sitting together adding to the list late at night, sweet smiles on their faces as they imagine their future.

Then it changes and all the playfulness seems to disappear and suddenly the list is more like prays instead of aspirations. It's taken over by my illness. At what time was it abandoned and buried at the back of the wardrobe? Somewhere between realising they weren't going to be able to do half the things they'd wanted and that no matter how many times they wished for my recovery I'd always end up back on that list as another item to overcome?

It was their dreams. It was skydiving and travelling and changing the world, it was laughter and love and hope, it was everything they could have had and done if I wasn't a burden tying them down.

The box I found it with had brochures for some of the things on the list, it also had half filled out forms applying to become foster parents and a unfinished manuscript for a sequel to my fathers book 'Ravens'. How many unwritten dreams were given up too, is the list endless, too long to write down. Is it just my parents, what about Sawyer and Abby, what have they let go of because of me?

I am not saying my family do not love me, I know they do, trust me, I know. But how far does loving each other take us, does it mean we should sacrifice ourselves because of that love.

Is that not what they have done my whole life?

Perhaps its time I sacrifice myself for love. Would it even be a sacrifice?

It's starting, I'm holding off telling my family but I know it's about to start again. Soon I will be in hospital again, soon they will be looking for some sort of cure or quick fix, and soon they will turn to Abby.

It is just a matter of time before I will be walking death again. All my strength will go into surviving. It never stops. The pain just keeps coming and I am stuck in this half-life dragging everyone I care about down with me.

The washing machine stops and with a sigh I transfer everything into the dryer. The cycle starts. Eventually it must end.

…

Everyone else is up and I lie in my bed staring up at the ceiling, my hands under my head. They will check on me soon, that is what drives me out of bed even though my side hurts and the thought of walking on my cramping legs is far from pleasant.

I can hear Mom and Dad talking downstairs as I walk to my draws, bypassing another shower I just want to get dressed for school. Abby's door slams shut not far from mine as I start to button up my shirt that hangs on me in a way it didn't a month ago, my pants are being held up by a belt that I had to add an extra hole to. Mom frowns at me these days and adds more to my plate. I am losing all the weight I'd put on after I went into remission again.

The doctor's appointment is after school today. I have one last day of normality. With this in thought I enjoy the simple act of dressing myself, getting my bag ready and heading downstairs.

Three pairs of eyes look up at me when I walk into the kitchen, "morning" I mumble and steal the apple Abby had just picked up.

"Hey! That's mine"

"Mine now" I wink and take a bite, "you want it back?"

Grinning my little sister plucks it from my grip and takes her own bite and Mom places a plate in front of me, "eat up" she tells me and I cringe at the sight in front of me.

"Ma, I'm not that hungry"

"Do your best" she says and ruffles my dark curls. Meanwhile my dad finishes chewing his toast and with his cheeks bulging walks up to Mom, he swallows before kissing her cheek "I'm off, I will see you later"

"Don't forget the appointment is for five"

"I won't" he nods and takes a last gulp of his coffee, he kisses Mom's lips now "love you"

"Love you too" she says back and gives his lips another peck as he leans away.

Smiling now Dad turns to us, "have a good day, don't' do anything I wouldn't" and with a wave he's off, mumbling about being later. It looks bad if the coach is late for the early training sessions.

"Bye" Abby and I both yell after him and then I'm looking at Mom again, on the opposite side of the counter she smiles at us, "any wild plans today?"

"I've got a rave down on Thompson Ave" I joke. I've got homework and a doctors appointment.

Abby shrugs, "I dunno, Ty said he'd teach me how to play the guitar"

"That sounds… loud"

"Relax Mom, at his house"

"Uncle Nathan will love that" Mom smirks and takes another sip of her coffee, "you guys right while I go get ready?"

"I'll keep the kid away from the matches" I roll my eyes and wink at Abby who scowls at me, "we're good" she says still sending that look my way. When Mom leaves I sling an arm around Abby and drag her head to my chest, "don't!" she whines but I squeeze her tightly ad mess her hair up before letting her go, "not my hair" she hits me once she's free.

"Ooh"

She hits me again.

"Hey, you can't hit me"

"Wanna bet" she wacks my shoulder again and I wince clutching at my arm, closing my eyes tightly as if in pain. I do my bets moan and suddenly I hear Abby getting down from her stool, "Keith, you okay? I didn't mean to hurt y-"

I pounce, pulling her into me I lift Abby up and tickle her side as I carry her into the living room and dump her over the couch. My body punishes me for it but the light in her eyes takes the pain away. This is my last day of normal, my last day to play with my sister with no worries, no watchful eyes, no holding back.

…

If I had a choice I would never go to school. It is not something I like doing, maybe because I've missed too much of it. My problem isn't the work; it's the social aspect of high school. I like getting out of the house, I like the break it gives me from the usual pattern of my day, and I like the alone time but it's like I'm a goldfish in a bowl and everyone is staring at me. I always forget how lonely school can be.

People aren't mean to me but I haven't been around long enough to form and keep any strong connections. For most of Tree Hill I'm not Keith; I am Sawyer or Abby's brother, I am Coach S's son, Brooke Davis' sick kid, or Ty Scott's cousin. They are nice to me because they don't know me enough to hate me and know of me enough that they feel like they have to be nice.

My last class couldn't come soon enough though at the same time it was over to quickly because this means more than half my day is gone.

At my locker Ty waits for me, his back against the blue row, his leg up and a guitar in his arms as he sings a lien to a few girls standing around him. That Scott smirk that Sawyer has as well on his lips. When he sees me he brushes his dark hair out of his eyes and nods at me, "hey there cuz, you ready?" but he doesn't wait for an answer, he turns his back on the girls and picks up his backpack and returns his guitar to its case with the utmost care.

Together we walk out of school and over to Ty's car, he nods to a few other students as we go and like always I study the way he interacts with the rest of the world. He has such confidence, such presence.

"What time do I have to get you home because there's this band that plays at the pier and I need your input"

I can tell just by the way his eyes go bluer that he thinks this is the band he should be part of, "I'm in"

"Great, let's get Abby" he says and looks away from me to focus on reversing out.

Like always Abby is waiting under the tree but Ty has to wait for another car to leave before we can park, soon the three of us are cruising towards the pier with music blaring from the stereo and Abby and Ty are fighting over what band to listen too.

"My car, my music" Ty fights back smacking her hand as she reaches from the back to change it, "get your seat belt on, god, Abs. What if we had a crash, you'd be dead"

"At least I would die to good music" she grumbles even as she sits back and puts on her car seat.

"Two rules. One, my car means my music. Two, always wear your seatbelt or you walk"

"Tool"

"Brat" he smirks back and Abby just looks away, "I need to talk to Sawyer about your taste" and he shakes his head.

From the back Abby grumbles again, "good luck, she's always with that lame boyfriend of hers these days"

"Whatever happened to Trey, I liked him"

"He was _too _nice" Abby scoffs letting her opinion known about what she thought of that.

We'd all liked Trey, had for years, he was one of Sawyer's oldest friends and they'd started 'dating' after going to prom together as friends. Their relationship had failed to really change from friendship into relationship and in the end had completely fizzled and then Sawyer had met Van. We haven't seen Trey around since then.

"Too nice?" Ty laughs, "he's her partner in crime how can he be too nice? Man, what's this new guy like then" and then he's changing subjects without even breathing "are you looking skinny?"

"Did your mom ask you to say that?" did my mom ask your mom to get you to say that?

Ty turns onto William Street and looks at me like I'm crazy, "no"

"Right" it's my turn to scoff.

We're silent until he parks the car, "you nervous about the doctors?" Ty cuts the engine and kinks his brow at me but looks away as if its no pressure to answer. I know better.

"Same as always" I'll leave the worrying til tomorrow. Ty shrugs and hops out of the car, Abby's already gotten out and is waiting impatiently.

Straight away a few guys standing with equipment wave us over ad Ty jogs ahead to greet them. I go to follow but Abby doesn't move, I turn to look at her "you okay?"

"Why don't you want him to know?"

Grabbing Abby's hand I squeeze it and pull her along with me, my answer is quiet "it can wait"

It won't hurt anyone that we can live in this bubble for one more day before it all starts all over again.

…

They sound great, its like Ty has always a part of them and Abby and I are no longer the only ones standing on the pier just to listen to them. I slip my hand back into Abby's and lead her out of the crowd over to the little café and a free table.

We can still hear the band and Abby forces her eyes away from the crowd to look back at me, by this time I've slipped an article to her.

"What's this?"

"Mary Buchanan was fourteen when she sued for medical emancipation to control her treatment" I run off the barest of facts. Abby stares at the article and then at me, "you want to _sue_ Mom and Dad?" her eyes practically fall out of her head.

I shake my head, take a breath and just say it, "no, I want you to"

"Me?" her face screws up and she looks so young.

Nodding I continue, "whatever they want you to do, don't do it, not this time"

"But that means-"

"I'm dying Abby. It's not anyone's fault, it's just the way it is and even though we've spent the last thirteen years fighting it we're still losing. I don't want to leave you but I don't want to waste my life anymore trying to find ways to live, I just want to be able to enjoy the time I've got left"

"But-" she stays again looking at me with so much fear, I shake my head.

"Please" I beg her, "I need your help"

The band has move onto a new song by the time Abby looks at me again and even though I can see she doesn't want to do this I see she's thinking about doing it, because of me, because I am asking her. So I give her the other articles.

"This is the lawyer you'll need. His name is Julian Baker but you have to wait a few months, you wait at least two months and Judge Peters will be back" I've been planning this for a month, hours of thought – weeks – have been put into the plan. It has to be them.

"Mom and Dad" Abby says as if that is enough, but I shove the articles closer to her.

It's going to hurt them but in the end the pain will be less than dragging it all out, we've been doing that for years and now its time to just rip the bandaid straight off so they can heal.

I shake my head, "let me worry about Mom and Dad"

"But what do I tell them?"

I stare her straight in the eyes, "you tell them you want it to stop"

She shakes her head, pushing her seat away from the table, "that's not how I want it to end"

"Then it never will" I tell her losing patience at everything, "when is enough going to be enough Abby, I'm tired okay, can't you just do this one thing for me"

I see her struggle to respond but then she just says, "They won't believe me"

Well they won't if she acts like this but a part of them will, a part of them will understand. Because I know that is all we all want, we just want it to stop. And they'll be vulnerable with everything overwhelming them it won't completely shock them that someone wants out.

"They won't want to but a part of them will" and I meet her gaze again, she is starting to understand it more now because a part of her does just want it to stop, "because we all just want it to stop"

"They won't" she says quickly, her voice laced with denial.

So I use my last weapon, her loyalty and love for me, not giving her time to really think, "promise me" I waited another beat "promise me you won't let me down"

And taken aback she agrees straight away because that's' how she reacts, it's how I knew she'd react and when she whispers "I promise" it is done.

Ty's voice reaches us and then he's playing solo, his voice fading into the sound of his guitar and when that dies off I start to clap loudly and proudly. The crowd cheers but Abby still sits frozen staring at me, her face pale.

Is it wrong I feel relief not guilt, for the first time this month I don't feel guilty anymore. My freedom comes with letting go. So does theirs.

-x-

_Sometimes we're holding angels  
And we never even know  
Don't know if we'll make it _

_Or we know, we just can't let it show_

_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't_  
_It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_  
_Some prayers find an answer_  
_Some prayers never know_  
_We're holding on and letting go_  
_Yeah, letting go_

_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't_  
_It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_  
_Some prayers find an answer_  
_Some prayers never know_  
_We're holding on and letting go_

_Whoa, Whoa… Whoa…_

_Whoa, Whoa… Whoa…_

_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't_  
_It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_  
_Some prayers find an answer, some prayers never know_  
_We're holding on and letting go_

- Holding On and Letting Go, _Ross Copperman._


	29. Work

**Disclaimer: same as always, I own nothing, but I am still waiting for Mark to realise he no longer truly owns oth either, he sold out way too long ago.**

_If you only once would let me  
Only just one time  
Then be happy with the consequence  
With whatever's gonna happen tonight  
Don't think we're not serious  
When's it ever not  
The love we make is give and it's take  
I'm game to play along_

_All I can say_  
_I shouldn't say_  
_Can we take a ride?_  
_Get out of this place_  
_While we still have time_

_oh oh, oh oh oh_  
_oh oh, oh oh oh_

-x-

Chapter Twenty-Nine

_*Brooke*_

The phrase _it's been a long day_ use to pop into my head a lot, eventually it became a long week and then a long year. Time dragging on so much so that eventually I stopped thinking about it and this _forever _feeling just became normal. Measurements of time stopped being controlled by a clock, instead of hours, days, weeks and months, it became counted in events.

The time between Sawyer coming home via police escort.

The time until Keith's next treatment.

The time waiting for Lucas to return from his most recent trip.

There is the school semester, the basketball season and the fashion deadline.

Time.

Equally as important and unimportant in my life, sometimes it seizes to exist all together.

Still ever since Sawyer moved back inside it has seemed to slow even more. Late at night when I have nothing to do but sleep and still can't seem to close my eyes it feels like this feeling of time stopping is a premonition. A warning that we should use what we have while we have it because soon it will just be gone.

Time.

I don't have much time to think at the moment, I don't have time to worry about this strange feeling or to even stay still for too long.

There is so much to do with the court case and Keith being in hospital and with Sawyer making her way through withdrawals. I'm a slave to my children and even with Lucas by my side or doing what I can't do there always seems to be something that has to be done or someone who has to be looked after. I need three of me.

I tiptoe out of Sawer's room where she sleeps peacefully; she'd almost slept away the last twelve hours. Lucas is at the hospital and once he's home we'll have dinner and then I will take Abby down to see Keith and Sam picked Abby up from school. I have no designs to do.

The washing is done, the house is clean, and the bills are paid. Is there something missing or have we somehow caught up?

Aimlessly walking through the house it feels strange to have _nothing _to do. I can't remember the last time I had even ten minutes to myself.

The doorbell rings.

I chuckle. I knew it was too good to be true.

I'm slightly shocked to see Sam at the door with Abby. My daughter has her long hair in piggy tails, her bangs messily swiped to the side, she's wearing an old pair of jeans and one of Sawyer's band shirts that goes all the way to her knees, and I just want to hug her when she sends me a cute _it wasn't my idea _roll of the eyes, "Sam says we couldn't just walk in because she's a guest"

"Come in" I step aside and kink my brow at Sam. She stands alone by the door for a moment before following Abby inside, her eyes wandering around as she comes further and further into the house while I shut the door behind them.

"How was your day?" I ask and at the same time both of them reply distracted "fine" and their eyes meet. Something inside me flips over. Sam shouldn't look so uncomfortable and unsure inside this home, and staring at the two of them nearly side by side it just seems so unfair to me that the two of them are almost strangers. They _should _have known each other before this. They _should _be as close as sisters.

I'm still so angry with Sam, no I am not angry - I'm heartbroken and confused.

Angie was a loan and as much as I cared for her she had two parents that loved her even more, and then there was Sam. At first we didn't get along but she crawled into my heart until I loved her fiercely, she was my daughter, my kid, my Sam. I would have done _anything _for her.

But I wasn't enough, she didn't want me as a mother and in the end she didn't want me at all. Did I not love her enough, show it enough, tell her enough?

Where did I go so wrong that fifteen years went by without a word, each year the spot reserved in my heart, for the girl who would always be my oldest child, grew harder and harder. Our separation becoming an endless pain in my chest, even with all the trouble Sam was always at the back of my mind. I know what it feels like to lose a child, and I've fought not to have to go through that again, fought so Lucas will never know the true agony that comes with it. It is not something you can ever be ready for no matter how well you learn to pretend.

"I'm going to go see Sawyer" Abby's voice brings me back to the present. I must be staring at Sam like a crazy person, looking away I smile at Abby and she runs off, speeding up the stairs and creating a racket.

"How fast they grow," I whisper not really thinking and Sam chuckles, and for a moment we share a look. I remember that Abby has mentioned Sam's daughter, it feels weird that I wouldn't know something like that. It feels weird there is so much about this woman in front of me I don't know, my questions could go on forever. Maybe now she's a mother Sam can understand what it feels like to be a parent, maybe now she understands that loving her was never conditional. It just was. Still is.

"Would you like a drink, something to eat?" why am I so nervous, why am I brushing my hair behind my ear and trying to not get my legs to shake.

There's a moment where I think she's going to find any excuse to leave but Sam seems just as nervous when she nods and I simply nod back and start heading for the kitchen knowing Sam will follow.

"Coffee?"

"Thanks"

While I busy myself making us each a coffee, the familiar routine coming back to me, I can't help but remember the first time Sam sat in this kitchen after the renovations were complete. Before I was back with Lucas, when I was still recovering from my time staying with Lucas and Sawyer, and Sam was out of high school and holding off going to college while she decided what she wanted to do with her life.

And now she's a woman.

Drinks finished I turn around and I almost freeze when I see Sam sitting in the same spot she always use to, the same spot that is always empty when the five of us are all sitting at the table, as if the kids knew that it belonged to someone else. Perhaps in the back of Sawyer's mind she remembered that it did.

Slowly I walk to the table and place her drink in front of her, "here you go" and then sit in my seat.

We're silent as we take our first sips, and then eventually I can't wait any longer.

When I speak my voice is quiet and cautious, "how are you?"

She stops, her body freezing and then she lowers her mug and meets my gaze, she nods, then nods more confidently as she answers, "I'm good"

"Happy and healthy?"

"Yes… I got my teaching degree"

"That's great" I can't help but smile and she smiles back, "married?" I ask.

"Divorced" she says it casually and I feel my smile slipping but she adds on quickly, "Happily divorced, it just wasn't meant to be. Andy wasn't _the one_" and she rolls her eyes.

"Andy? You married _him_? Sam, I could have told you he wasn't your one" and it was like all the years between us were gone as we both laughed but then it was like it hit us both why I never got a chance to tell her that all those years ago.

Her mouth opens and closes and then opens again as she looks down and away from me, her hands gripping her mug with a death grip.

"There were so many times I wanted to call you"

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't know what to say after…" she looks up and her words trail off but I know what she means so I nod.

It didn't matter how much time had passed if she'd called me she could have said _anything _and I would have forgiven her, or at least I would have tried to but she didn't give me the chance.

"If you didn't want me to be your mother I would have been happy just to be your friend"

"I'm sorry" she says quickly, "I made a mistake. I know that. I know I handled it wrong but… I tried to tell you what I was thinking and it just came out _all _wrong and I felt so guilty for hurting you that I chickened out"

"_Fifteen years_, Sam"

"I know" she says, regret in her voice but also something else, something defensive, something that said it was too late to change the past now.

"I took you in, gave you everything you could possibly want or need, loved you as if you were my own and then you just vanished. I never went anywhere, you always knew where to find me, but _fifteen _years and not one phone call or letter, and suddenly your at my door and I… I don't know what you want" I'm scared and hopeful. Sam didn't come back into my life by choice, she's been so close all this time and she never made contact, what else can I do but presume it's because she didn't want to. So do I open my arms in welcome or prepare myself for another goodbye?

"From me I mean" I add on, "what do you want from me? Because I don't know how I can say goodbye to you again, not _now-_" I stop. Tears forming at the corner of my eyes but I fight them back.

"That's not what I want," Sam quickly says and her hand reaches for mine on the table, "Brooke… _I _can't go through that again either"

"Good" I smile.

She gives a wonky smile back and then Sam moves her hand away, "after all this is over, when I'm no longer Abby's guardian ad litem, I was wondering if you'd like to get together some time. I know things won't be the same but I wouldn't mind having another friend"

"I'd like that" and it's like another piece of my life has just fallen into place.

Her smile turns into a grin, "great. It's a plan then" she waits a second and then says, "there's someone I really want you to meet" and she pulls out her phone and slides it across to me, "her name is Elena"

When I see the young face that beams from Sam's phone I feel both pride and sadness, "she's beautiful"

"I think so but then again I'm bias" and she chuckles as she takes the phone back.

"How old is she?" I ask, curious to know more about Sam's life but she never answers, something catches her attention and I turn my head to look at what had made Sam get that expression on her face.

To my shock Julian is in the doorway right behind Abby and his eyes are locked on Sam, guilt fills his eyes and he quickly looks away from Sam, "I knocked"

"For _ages_" Abby drones and then walks into the kitchen and goes straight for the cookie jar.

There's suddenly this tension in the room and I look between Sam and Julian, what is going on here?

My eyebrow kinks up and Sam blushes. Actually _blushes_.

She's getting up before I can ask anything, "I should be heading home" she looks to Julian briefly then smiles and gives Abby a wave before turning back to me, "I'll be in touch"

I watch silently as Sam goes to leave, her and Julian do a back and forth dance when she has to go through the doorway and he turns to move to let her, each time they step in the same direction until finally they meet each others eyes and for a moment I swear they light up with something… something _more_. Awareness tingles through me, for a moment I reject what I'm starting to think but then almost instantly the rejection is replaced with acceptance, with a feeling that somehow they just _fit_. Maybe they always did. I frown.

Julian steps back and finally Sam is free to go and for at least a minute the three of us are just silent. Abby eating her cookie where she leans against the counter, Julian still staring at the last place he'd seen Sam and me watching him.

When he looks at me and notices my expression his face becomes blank and I just kink my brow again and cross my arms, "Julian?" I ask.

"Brooke" he says back with the same tilt to my name and I just smile knowingly. Oh boy, more drama. Just what Tree Hill needs.

"Something you want to tell me?"

"Not really" he shrugs and turns to Abby, "you going to share?"

"Cookie?" Abby offers and it's like a conspiracy the way the two of them start to talk as if I'm not still standing here.

"Don't mind me, I just need to talk to my client" and Julian motions with his eyes for Abby to follow him. Taking the cookie jar with her Abby goes after Julian and walking backwards out of the room I'm sure she knows exactly what she's doing when she says, "oh, Sawyer wanted you"

And she winks before disappearing out of view.

With something to do I decide to let my curiosity slide for the time being and go check on Sawyer.

…

When Lucas comes home I'm sitting on the couch with Sawyer on one side of me and Abby on the other, my youngest has her head resting against my arm, her focus on the movie we'd decided to watch.

I lift my head up and turn it when I hear Lucas, "hey"

"Hey, how's everything?" he asks when he is close enough to bend down and kiss my lips.

"Good, how was your day?"

"Good"

There's something he wants to tell me. Carefully moving from under Abby I smile at the girls and they look at me for a second before turning their attention back to the movie.

"_Hi girls_" Lucas bends over the couch, touching both their heads. Sawyer grumbles and swats his hand away and Abby says "_hi dad_" in the same teasing tone he'd used, Sawyer repeats it in a mumble but then they go back to the movie and Lucas looks at me with tired eyes and a strained smile.

When I grab his hand he clings to it and we walk outside with our arms around each other, I lead him to the garage without words and pull him to the bonnet of the comet. Sitting down on top of the car I spread my legs and Lucas stands between them, our hands holding, "what's going on?"

Instead of answering me Lucas closes his eyes and lowers his head so our foreheads touch and I know he just needs to be held at the moment so that is what I do.

When he lets out a rough breath I stroke his back, "I know" I tell him. I know some days a tougher than others, I know what it's like to have to watch Keith go through a bad day, I know what it's like to be at that hospital and I know what it's like to come home. And being the bearer of bad news, I know all about that.

It's a few more minutes before Lucas leans back, and he looks up at the roof before looking down at me, his eyes bluer than normal and wet. I run my thumb over his cheek where one tear waited.

"He's not coming home again" he whispers, "I guess I always knew this day would come but…"

When he can't continue and the natural denial in my rears up I quickly ask, "Is that what Dr Phelps said?"

"They even got Candice to tell me. She doesn't think he'll make it to the end of the month, if that"

We've always had some sort of hope, one last crazy attempt to keep Keith alive and here we are facing the end. We have nowhere to go and nothing to do. Time is running out and the reality is that the chances of finding a donor is slim to none, if Abby wins her lawsuit our family can never be the same again.

I suck in a breath. I try to breathe. I try to do anything but think about my son's face still and lifeless.

"Should we talk to her?" Lucas asks, and there's a desperation in his eyes and voice.

"What would we say that we haven't already?" Abby knows what she is doing, and I would have to be blind not to see how much she loves her brother, how much she needs him, and despite that she is still not willing to give her case up.

"We have to try, don't we?" he says, "if we just stand by and… what sort of parents does that make us?"

So I nod and I wrap my arms around him and he pulls me into his chest and hugs me harder than he ever has before and that is saying something.

Our life is full of moments when we must make decisions on what to do next, decisions that we must try to answer what is best for our family. Knowing what is best is not always crystal clear, the two of us don't always agree on what action we should take, or what is right.

And when we walk back into the house to see the girls talking quietly on the couch, their faces close together and small smiles on their faces the right thing and the wrong thing blur. I look at Lucas next to me and see the same confusion in his eyes.

Ultimately Abby was right when she said it's cancer that is killing Keith not her, is it really our place to put the blame on her, a twelve year old girl. If we ask her to end the court case, if we ask her to agree to the transplant because Keith is dying, isn't that what we are doing. In our minds and in hers we're giving her the blame of the outcome; we're putting his life solely in her hands. Are we expecting too much from her?

Have we always?

How exactly do we do right by one child without doing wrong by the other?

Grabbing Lucas' hand I step forward, "Sawyer, are you up for dinner out before we all go see Keith?"

The girls both turn, surprise in their eyes but Sawyer nods, "yeah, actually nothing could make me feel better"

If time is running out then at least we can spend as much of it as we can together, and if Abby changes her mind then it has to be her choice not ours.

And if that's not the right choice…

Let's face it, does anyone have the power to judge all of us and decide what is right.

-x-

_All the best DJs are saving  
The slowest song for last  
When the dance is through  
It's me and you  
Come on, would it really be so bad?  
The things we think might be the same  
But I won't fight for more  
Its just not me to wear it on my sleeve  
Count on that for sure_

_All I can say_  
_I shouldn't say_  
_Can we take a ride?_  
_Get out of this place_  
_While we still have time_  
_You want to take a ride?_  
_Get out of this place_  
_While we still have time_  
_Yeah - We still have time_

_oh oh (ahhhhhhhh)_  
_oh oh (ahhhhhhhh)_  
_oh oh (ahhhhhhhh)_  
_oh oh (ahhhhhhhh)_

_Can't say I was never wrong_  
_But some blame rests on you_  
_Work and play they're never okay_  
_To mix the way we do_

_All I can say_  
_I shouldn't say_  
_Can we take a ride?_  
_Get out of this place_  
_While we still have time_  
_You wanna take a ride?_  
_Get out of this place_  
_While we still have time_  
_We still have time_

_oh oh, oh oh oh_  
_oh oh, oh_

- Work, _Jimmy Eat World_

**AN: I am not sure about this chapter, its short but I wanted to cover some more brooke/sam now brooke/lucas/sawyer drama has been sorted out. Not long to go now, the trial is coming up. Thankyou for reading, and an extra thank you to alex, alysef, allie and haleydavisbaker, and my anonymous reviewer, for the reviews.**


	30. Last Mistake

**Disclaimer: ditto all the other disclaimers before this.**

**Hey, so I think I debated this chapter for a few weeks before saying yeah it's as close to what I want as I think I can get, still I have this feeling something is missing. But whatever, it's a step closer to the next chapter and then the next. I hope you all enjoy. **

**And I'll take the time to thank the reviewers. Alysef, allie, no name ;), othlvr16, alex, and blueword. **

_Headlights on the highway burning out the midnight sun  
I'm not waiting for the one to come down  
Time you wasted looking for the diamonds in the rough  
When you know it's not enough to go 'round_

_Well, you're only as good as your last mistake_  
_You're only as right as the wrong you make_  
_You can run, and you run, and you run, but you'll never escape_  
_You'll never escape_

-x-

Chapter Thirty

*_Sam_*

There's something so right and yet so wrong about sitting across from Julian, I watch him interact with my daughter as if he's known her all her life and Elena beams under the male attention. She even ate her greens without complaint because Julian told her they were his favourite.

I hide my smile behind the glass of wine I am holding. Another first for us, usually we drink beer together.

"Really?" Julian asks, Elena nods wildly and continues to tell the story about what happened at her school earlier in the day. Julian meets my eyes, he's smiling softly and the sparkle in his hazel depths tells me how much he is enjoying Elena's colourful stories.

My daughter is currently going through a lying stage, not so much the _"I didn't do it"_ phase, but everything that comes out her mouth was just so exaggerated and colourful there was no way it could be true and the poor kid didn't realise that us adults knew it was impossible. It isn't a malicious lying stage, more a burst of creativity to impress others.

Julian sure looked impressed.

"Okay, Elle, I think after such a _busy _day you need a good _sleep_" somebody has to be the adult around here.

Picking up her cup Elena takes a small sip, "but I'm not finished" and she took another small, _tiny_ sip of her drink.

"Uh-huh" I look doubtfully down at her empty plate and I am pretty sure the cup is just as empty, "well… I'm going to go start running your bath-"

"Can I stay with Julian?"

I kink my brow at him and he nods, "okay, a few minutes" and I start to walk out stopping at the bathroom doorway I look back down the hall and I can just see their two heads close together. He's teaching her how to play _paper, scissors, rock_.

I can hear their voices and their laughter while I run the bath, the bubbles growing higher and higher just the way Elena likes it but I sigh when I turn the tap off.

What am I doing?

It's so easy to just be with Julian and talk. We discuss everything but never the important things, we don't discuss the case anymore, we don't talk about the Scott's or what had Julian coming to my door the other night, and sometimes it feels like this just isn't real.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub I am so lost in thought that I jump when Elle's voice breaks the silence "is it ready?"

I nod because words seem to fail me, in the doorway Julian places Elena on the ground and she runs over and puts two fingers into the water. Her nose scrunches up, "it's too cold"

When I feel the warm water it is colder than it had been when I turned the tap off but not cold enough that Elena can't have a bath, "it's fine, come on my little monster let's get you in"

My hand is gently slapped away when I go to help her but I know Elena is capable of dressing and undressing herself, it's just faster with my help.

Looking awkward with watching a young girl have a bath Julian steps back, "I'll just go clean up"

"You don't have to" I reply even as a naked Elle uses my shoulder to keep balance as she steps into the bath, I turn to make sure she's in properly and when I look back at the door Julian is gone.

My frown vanishes when bubbles spray over my face and Elena giggles when I give her a quick tickle, the next few minutes flash by. I manage to wash Elle's hair and get the majority of my outfit wet before my daughter kicks me out.

Sure enough I find Julian washing the dishes and the table is clear, he's quick.

"What are you doing?" I ask and cross my arms, my hip leans against the counter to the left of him. He turns his head slightly, "cleaning up" he says and puts a clean plate on the rack.

"I know that, Julian. I mean what are you doing here, in my house, when you could be anywhere else? You come over every night and we never talk about what it means"

He doesn't answer, just continues to wash the dishes and my frustration grows, "_Julian?_"

"I like it here" he whispers.

"Okay" I nod and tighten my arms around me, "okay" I repeat again. I have to hide the stupid grin that wants to take over my face for some reason. Really his words shouldn't do to me what they do because he had said it sadly as if it's not a good thing.

"It's kind of weird, don't you think, that this isn't weird… I mean with the whole Brooke thing…" I try to laugh it off but I watch Julian carefully, he doesn't stiffen but he narrows his eyes at me and puts the dish in his hand down.

"… Not that we're _doing _anything" I quickly add. I don't want to seem presumptuous though I am sure a blush is rising up my neck. Julian laughs at me, soft and gentle, it runs down my spine.

"Did you see the way she looked at us?" I stop to take a breath and when I go to speak again Julian stops me, stepping closer he puts a soapy finger to my lips.

Eyes searching mine Julian waits a heartbeat before speaking, "Samson, we're not doing anything wrong. We're friends"

I nod.

He steps back with a smile and I can't help but talk back, "but we can't pretend our friendship doesn't complicate things"

"And that's why we don't talk about Abby"

"But we don't talk about Brooke or Lucas or Peyton, or _any _of them, and shouldn't we? They mean something to us and once the case is over we're going to have to face that" I didn't realise I was so passionate about the subject until I started my rant. By Julian's face I don't think he knew how I felt either.

Julian stares at me for a moment and then he leans against the sink, his hands go behind him to keep balance, "what do you want to say?"

"I…" and when I don't say anything else he starts to look amused, his silly grin spreads wider and wider when words continue to fail me. I lift my finger at him in warning, "don't, don't laugh at me, it's not funny"

"Hey, you wanted to talk" his hands go up innocently.

"One of us has to, you still haven't told me what-"

"Sam" he cuts in and I stop but roll my eyes. Embarrassed I turn my back, there are not many other places to look at, my apartment isn't that big, and I find myself staring at a picture of Elena and I from last year. Something about it reminds me of a photo Brooke use to display of the two of us together, "I think about her sometimes when I'm with you, I remember when it was the three of us. I remember the way you use to smile at her… you…" you smile at me like that now. Not exactly the same but there is something similar in the way he use to look at her and the way he now looks at me. It scares me.

It's what has me doubting the friend label, and at the same time it is the main reason I don't want to be anything more than friends.

But I can't say it. I can't ask him if he thinks of her when he's with me, and I don't want to compare who he cares or cared for more.

I've never been the jealous girlfriend before, and here I am and I'm not even the girlfriend, yet there's a strange jealousy inside me. How did Brooke cope with this? How did she handle coming after Peyton and being a mother and wife in the family her best friend left behind?

And here I am bringing Brooke back into things.

As if he can read my mind – and I'm not entirely sure he can't – Julian says, "you're the one who keeps mentioning Brooke, not me"

I spin back around with my arms folded "_you're _the one who pulled away"

He sighs, running a hand through his thick hair, the same locks my fingers had twirled around and ache to once again.

Just as the tension is about to explode I hear Elena calling for me and giving Julian a _this-isn't-over _look I quickly leave and respond to my daughter.

By the time I've pulled the plug and Elena is in her pyjamas I'm not even sure if Julian is still waiting for me, I wouldn't be surprised if he's just turned tail and ran as fast as he could out of my life.

"Where's Julian?" Elle asks as I tuck her into bed.

Before I can answer I hear his voice, "here I am, Ellester" he uses the nickname that has stuck over the last few days. My daughter beams and reluctantly I look at Julian who is relaxing in the doorway.

"Read me a story?" her r sounds more like a w but Julian smiles at her question and makes his way over to the bed. Without asking what book Elena wants he grabs the one he'd started last night and opens it to the page they were up to.

While I listen to his voice I remember when I was fifteen and he use to read his latest script to me as I sat on the couch.

What I remember is he respected my opinion even back then, how many times did he come to me after a fight with Brooke. And here we are now and I don't know what we are, or what we are doing, but we're different.

…

An hour after Elena falls asleep, Julian and I are in my living room sitting next to each other on the couch watching a John Hughes movie, Julian loves it but I mainly like just watching his expressions as he watches the TV. We haven't talked. And I don't really mind because just sitting with him here like this feels nice.

…

I wake up with a jump not knowing what has woken me or where I am, and then I see Julian fast asleep on my couch and the little patch of drool on his shirt from where my own head had just been resting. Good one, Sam, real charming.

It's another few seconds before it hits me that someone is knocking on my door. I get up awkwardly, my foot asleep, and make sure Julian is still asleep. He is.

Unlike him I don't sleep through everything, it's a mother thing. When Elle is out at a sleepover I sleep like the dead but whenever I know she's home I wake at the smallest of sounds.

Before I limp over to the door I cover Julian with a rug and then go to deal with my late night visitor. Pins and needles make it a slow process but feeling is back in my foot by the time I tentatively unlock the door.

I keep the chain in place, "yes?"

"Samantha Colson?" a voice asks, he sounds young, curious I look harder at the boy at my door.

"Depends who is asking"

"I'm… I'm Ty Scott… Abby's cousin"

At that I undo the chain and open the door wider. Ty looks me up and down, his hands deep in his black jacket, and I can't help but see both his parents in him though there isn't a huge resemblance to his brother Jamie. But then again I never saw Jamie as a teenager.

"Hi… uh-" I'm not sure what to say. My eyes go to Julian for reassurance but the lawyer is still asleep, and so I step outside. Ty frowns and moves back instinctively, checking the surrounding area as if someone might be watching us.

I close the door quietly, "this really isn't appropriate"

"I-" he looks apologetic but then his expression turns more stern and it is as if Nathan was staring right at me, "look, I need to talk to you"

"If it's about the case, I am sorry Mr Scott but my focus has to be on Ab-"

"So why are you letting her do this?" he growls, "Abby wants to do the transplant"

It would be simpler if I didn't feel sorry for Ty, I can imagine how hard this situation is for the family but I cannot let compassion for anyone other than Abby influence my performance as her guardian ad litem.

"I know it's hard to believe but Abby wouldn't have gone through-"

Again he interrupts me, which kind of gets on my nerves before what he's saying sinks in "she's not even thirteen. Abby wouldn't know how to find a lawyer let alone start this shit, the only reason she's doing any of this is because she doesn't know how to say no" he takes a breath, "look I love Abs, she's my family, my friend, but this is bullshit. Her whole life she's done everything everyone tells her to do and finally she takes a stand and it's not even her fucking stand. If _Abby _wanted this sure whatever but… she doesn't"

It takes me a moment to fully catch up because if what Ty is insinuating is true then it changes _everything_.

"Are you telling me that someone else is pushing Abby into seeking medical emancipation?" Sawyer immediately comes to mind but just as soon as the thought enters my mind I know it's wrong.

There's only one person, I've learnt, who everything and everyone in the Scott family circles around.

There is only one person who Abby looks to with such a devoted look as if she would do anything for them. It never made sense. It never really resonated with me that Abby could be the way she is with Keith, love him so, and yet _not _give up a part of her self to save the brother she adores.

What is it that Keith had said to me? I can't remember exactly but I remember that despite the fact his sister was speeding up his venture to the pearly gates the fifteen year old hadn't been mad… he'd been tired.

"Abby would do anything for Keith" Ty answers, his eyes glancing around again, "please" he begs me, "you have to help her. If she wins she'll lose, it'll kill her, you have to stop it" there's a desperate edge to his voice and then he's gone. I blink and Ty is walking away from me in quick strides.

I almost call out to him, I almost tell him to come back, to tell me more. To explain it. But he doesn't need to.

We do things for family, sometimes the unimaginable.

Sometimes we let them go.

…

When I first moved in with Rebecca I couldn't help but judge her next to Brooke, so many times I wanted to just go back to the first real home and mother I had ever known. But it was Brooke who taught me to forgive, Brooke who taught me that good things could happen to me, and that I have to give people a chance.

So I stayed with Rebecca and I learnt to love her and to appreciate her too.

That didn't mean I stopped missing Brooke, I didn't, but she was always a phone call away and then a short drive when I got my licence. Life was busy though and sometimes we could go months without coming face to face.

When Peyton died Brooke changed, she was just so _un_brooke, and I had wanted to be there for her more yet didn't know how. Over time she started to balance out again, when she bought her new house we'd slept in sleeping bags on the hard floor the first night she got the keys.

Over the time she lived with Lucas we chatted for hours on the phone at least once a week, though I never got to visit. Then she was moving officially into the new place, that weekend I remember going to see her, I remember thinking she looked sad.

The next time I saw Brooke she was dating Lucas. Between the two times I had no idea how much it was going to change everything, it took me a long time to really realise what it meant.

Over the first two years of me living with Rebecca a lot had changed, it wasn't so much our bond that drifted apart, just our lives as they spiralled down different directions.

Suddenly we were part of two different families, and I know the exact moment that thought had hit me.

It was a week before mother's day when I answered my phone and Lucas called me. _He _was planning something for Brooke, and _he _was inviting me into his and _Sawyer's _mother's day for Brooke.

And on the day when he'd slipped and called Brooke '_Mommy' _to Sawyer and no one had even noticed, well, I knew that Brooke had found a new family and as much as they were trying to include me I just didn't belong like I use to. No one referred to me as Brooke Davis' daughter anymore, and no one called her my mother anymore. And when I left Brooke with Lucas and Sawyer it was because I had to go home to Rebecca.

Still it was like a niggling sensation at the back of my mind, one I could mostly ignore because I was happy Brooke had a family who loved her and would take care of her because I couldn't be there.

Before I knew it Brooke and Lucas were engaged, and then they were married, and when I stood by her side holding flowers and smiling as they were announced man and wife a part of me was a little sad.

I liked being a Davis, and Brooke had told me I would always be one. Now she wasn't.

Then I made the mistake of telling Rebecca how I felt and the flash of pain in her eyes, the way she tried to hide her own hurt as she comforted me, made me aware that I was clinging to Brooke in a way that kept me from really letting Rebecca in as a mother. So I tried harder to be a better daughter. Ironic, I know, after all this was the mother who gave me up at birth.

Seeing Brooke with Sawyer and Lucas became almost painful, I was young and still very selfish, sharing Brooke with another child had never really mattered when I was the only one who she thought of as _her _child.

The day eventually came that Brooke sat me down at the table, me in my usual place, slipped me a coffee and sipped her own water, and told me she was pregnant.

That house with the roses had never been my home, and with Brooke pregnant it felt like she didn't need me any more, so not going back was easier than I ever thought it would be. Putting distance between us made sense because despite what Brooke wanted I was never going to be a big sister to the baby she was having, it would already have that with Sawyer.

Everything was happening so fast, by the time Brooke was eight months along Sawyer was calling Brooke her mom all the time. When Keith was born and I went to see them in the hospital the nurse on hearing I was family assumed I was Brooke's sister, I didn't say anything, I didn't know how to correct her.

The rest is a blur; I missed Keith's christening, which had Brooke knocking on my door a day after Andy had proposed to me. My mind was already spinning with thoughts of my future and she was so disappointed in me.

I was so shocked after she left, I was in shock from the things I had said and as much as I wanted to chase after her I knew that would only complicate things more. As horrible as it was it was kinder than saying sorry only to disappear again.

Brooke shouldn't have been held back due to her ties with me, she deserved to be happy with her new family, to give them her all, just as Rebecca and Andy needed a part of me I was keeping from them still. So I let go for all of us.

Over the years after I often thought of Brooke, and I would imagine her happy and in love, and I would imagine what Sawyer and Keith would be like but I wasn't worried because they had two pretty awesome parents. It was easier to let go knowing that was her life.

Before all the recent drama it had been thirteen years since I'd seen Brooke, fifteen since that day in my dorm room when we had last spoken.

The last time I saw her was Victoria's funeral. I had seen the announcement in the B Davis magazine, and gone to the funeral to pay my respects to two women who'd been good to me. Dressed in my best clothes, my engagement ring still sparkling on my finger, I'd stood in the distance watching the small gathering at the Tree Hill cemetery.

Other than a handful of Victoria's acquaintances it was all Brooke and the Scott's. Now very much looking like a little girl Sawyer had been crying, her still form standing in front of Lucas who had one firm hand on his daughters shoulder while his other arm was wrapped around Brooke. On Brooke's other side Haley and Nathan stood with Jamie between them, and a small boy who smiled with dimples too deep to be anyone other than Keith was playing with Lucas' mothers curls as she stood near her son.

I watched from afar, even when Jamie left his parents side to join Brooke, even when he silently took Brooke's hand and squeezed it. I just watched, too far away to join them anymore and I cried the tears that weren't flowing from Brooke because I could still feel her pain.

…

Some things never change, mostly though everything does, it's the natural order to grow, evolve, adapt. It is simply time.

Emotions are no different. The status quo can only hold for so long.

And then something snaps.

With a heavy sigh I lock up again before moving to stand above Julian and watch him sleep.

What do we do now?

Do I tell him or Brooke, would doing so be betraying Abby or would it be the opposite, should I talk to her or would that cause her to close up even more. So many questions and each one has a multiple of right answers.

I picture Julian awake sitting on the couch looking at me.

"_What do you want to do?"_

"I want to help them"

"_Who?"_

"All of them"

"_But it's not about them, it's meant to be about Abby, remember. Don't let your personal feeling get in the way"_

"You don't understand"

"_You feel guilty for not being there" _he stares at me, his hands between his legs and I blink. He's not real; the real Julian is asleep unaware of the real situation. Julian doesn't know I feel guilty, I do.

I get up and walk to the kitchen, getting out another glass of wine, but he follows me.

"_You have to help Abby"_

"How?" I whisper frustrated. How do I help her? Do I do what she wants or what she _really _wants. Do I allow myself to be dragged into Keith's suicidal game, become a player making the moves I'm expected to, or just maybe I can do what Ty did. I can make a move of my own, change the game.

-x-

_Hiding in the faces of the people left behind_  
_In your soul and in my mind, in the ground_  
_Living in the memories of the years that pass us by_  
_Where our demons go to die, in the ground_

_Well, you're only as good as your last mistake_  
_Yeah, you're only as right as the wrong you make_  
_You can run, and you run, and you run, but you'll never escape_

_You can come a little closer, but I would wait_  
_You can try a little harder, but never in vain_  
_You can wait a little longer and find a way_  
_But you're only as good as your last mistake_

_Yeah, you're only as good as your last mistake_  
_You're only as right as the wrong you make_  
_You can run, and you run, and you run, but you'll never escape_  
_Yeah, you'll never escape_

- Last Mistake, _Augustana_


	31. Chapter 31

Now first off I am sorry, I have been where you are if you're reading this. The oh wow yay a update oh it's an author's note, that's not a chapter. Gazillion years without an update and this lame ass sorry for not updating is all I get. Pfft. I am so not reading this.

So after apologising for the fact I am about to apologise I'm just going to say it. I am so sorry for sucking so bad I haven't updated in well I don't remember. It's been over a year. A lot in my life has changed since then, some of those changes made it harder for me to find the time and inspiration to write.

Now I want to start focusing on getting my fanfiction back on track, and finishing what I started so not only you know how it ends but so I can fully see it fleshed out too. It's my plan to focus on one fanfiction and start updating regularly again, but I am gonna need encouragement and lots of pushing along the way so I don't get distracted and so I can find a reason to find time to do this. I am a sucker for a guilt trip so if you want me to continue my fanfictions I really need you on my back so I can get on my back about it.

Good Behaviour is in its beginning, My Brother's Keeper is around five chapters from the end from what I can remember according to my brief chapter outline. I want to know what you the readers want, do you want me to finish these or just fade back into the void? And if you chose which fanfiction would you want me to focus on first.

Please, your opinions do matter to me and I am truly ashamed at how long it has been, so I ask that you take a little time out of your lives to get back to me about this and hopefully in the future also review my updates, and in turn I will then take the time out of my life to write for you.

All the best,

Mickei


	32. Boston

**authors note: so i am still alive. again sorry for the long wait, this is a long way coming, and it was harder to write, funnily enough teh last two chapters are already written. i guess this in a way is a filler chapter and it was just hard for me to write, i didnt know who it shoudl be, or how to bring it together and then the other night i got a review and it inspired me. it helped to bring my muse back to write this, and i am not happy with how it turned out, i really am not proud of it. something doesnt feel right and i dont think what i want it to get across is actually going to get across, so tell me what you get from it, what you think it means, where you think its going. no this for sure I know where and how this is ending, so before the next chapter tell me your ideas, your guesses, i am curious, also to know if you still even care. talk to me, im here to listen and hopefully im here to write.**

**this chapter is dedicated niktar, thank you for your kind words. **

**disclaimer: I do not own Brooke and Lucas, or OTH or any of the characters, I do not have any rights to My Sisters Keeper either. **

_In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...  
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,  
This world you must've crossed... you said..._

_You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,_  
_She said_  
_You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,_

_Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across_  
_An open field,_  
_When flowers gaze at you... they're not the only ones who cry_  
_When they see you_  
_You said…_

-x-

Chapter Thirty-One

_*Julian*_

The words blur in front of my tired eyes. No matter how much sleep I steal it never seems to satisfy my body, perhaps subconsciously I am rejecting being awake so I don't have to face what I am about to be a part of.

It feels wrong all the way to the tip of my fingers which shake as I turn the page in front of me, though I know there is no other option because I also know with a deep certainty that _not _helping Abby would be even more wrong. The kid has gotten to me. Being by her side is the one right in this whole situation, as doomed as it is.

A sound alerts me to another presence and I look up to see Sam sliding into the seat across from me. We're in our usual booth and there is nothing knew is seeing her adding more sugar to her coffee, except her eyes are equally weary as mine and her hands are just as shaky.

"Everything alright, Sampson?"

At my words her eyes lift surprised as if she didn't even realise I was here before now, "what?"

I reach out and steady her hand, forcing Sam to place her cup down on the table before she burns herself, "Sam?"

She shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I'm just distracted"

"Yeah" I mumble back and watch her carefully. Sam is fidgeting more than normal and I can tell her mind is just as active, I can see it in every inch of her beautiful eyes. I am not surprised when her lips part as if she was about to speak and then close before the words leave her mouth. The moment is gone and silence reigns between us.

By the time Sam actually takes a sip of her coffee it must be cold and tasteless, she cringes and I automatically signal the waitress for another and so we go through the motions again. Even though I know we're both somewhere completely different I can't help but smile at Sam adding more sugar to her new coffee, for a second I pretend it's just a normal day.

And then the second is over.

There is only really one thing I can say, "Are you ready?"

"No"

It's as simple as that. We're not ready, and if we're not then how will Abby, Brooke and Lucas cope. Nothing could ever prepare us for this. For the first time in my life I am holding someone's life in my hands, it is a huge responsibility. The power is not welcome. Truthfully, it is the scariest thing I have ever experienced.

"All you have to do is tell the truth, think about Abby and tell the truth" I tell Sam. At least her hands can be clean in this, she is not part of this lie I have been dragged into.

So it's a shock when Sam gives a bitter laugh, "the truth" almost immediately Sam knows she's done something wrong, "sorry, we shouldn't be talking about this" and her eyes go down to her shaking hands, mine follow her gaze.

"Sam…" how to put this without betraying the person we both are meant to be protecting, "do you know something?"

It's a long moment before she answers, first she looks into my eyes and I can tell she's trying to read me. Suddenly excited, yet obviously nervous, Sam leans forward, "maybe I know something"

"There are certain things I can't do in my position, certain things I cannot betray, _I'm _Abby's puppet"

"Right" she nods, her eyes now wide.

Does she know? Did I give something away… no, she seems just as curious and cautious about what we… might be… talking about. Did Abby give herself away, or has Sam figured it out on her own?

What am I even thinking, there is nothing to say Sam even knows what I think she knows.

My voice is quieter, "but _if _there is something others should know-"

"Then someone has to tell them, right?" she says in a rush, "I mean no one should have to do something they don't want to do"

_She has to know!_ Now we really are looking at each other strangely, I narrow my eyes "that is what this case is about" But what she is fighting for isn't really what Abby wants.

Neither one of us speaks. We're staring at each other silently as the clock keeps ticking closer and closer to the time when our choices will no longer mean anything.

…

We step outside in unison, and while I watch Sam I see her lift her face to the cloudy sky. The day has an uncomfortable draining warmth yet dark, stormy clouds seem to closing in from all sides, soon the sun will offer no warmth to this day.

Nonetheless, Sam mutters to herself "it's a nice day" as if there was no approaching storm, "Elena loves the rain"

"There is something poetic about it" I agree.

Sam looks down, her feet shuffling in the same spot, and then her suddenly amber eyes are on me "when we are able to talk about things, anything, I'm here" and she is looking straight through me.

"Look, Sampson, you don't have to worry about me"

"Yes I do" she gives a little smile and I can't help but smile back. Sam grabs for the sleeve of my shirt, "good luck"

The words I want to say get stuck in my throat so instead I nod and with that we're walking in opposite directions. Now I stare up at the skies as I pause by my car.

It is as if the very heavens know what is to come.

…

The hospital is full of noise yet eerily quiet all at the same time. I feel too large for the hallways, too awkward as if I don't belong. And I don't.

I am not family, hell I'm not even a friend.

But then I remember Abby's cheeky smile with her large sad eyes and the way she has wormed her way into my heart. As crazy as it sounds I want to be her friend. This is something I can't just walk away from or give up on.

Keith is awake when I get to his room though a nurse is with him helping the boy clean up. He is so thin, his skin blotchy, it's yellow and purple and white, and around his eyes are red, the whites of them pink. Everything about the boy looks drained and limp; it's hard to believe he is fifteen years old.

"You can't be in here" the nurse says and starts to head my way but before I can say anything Keith stops her.

"No" he says quietly, slowly. The nurse faces him again and he must do something that instructs her to leave the room, "five minutes" she tells us before closing the door behind her.

Quickly I walk towards the bed my hand outstretched, "hello, I'm-" my mouth closes as he lifts his hand to stop me and I freeze mid step. Carefully Keith moves his legs to hang over the bed so he is sitting, and even though I know it must be tiring him out he sits up straight.

"Julian Baker" he finishes for me.

Stepping forward I gap the distance between us, my hand still out, "and you're the all-important Keith"

His eyes don't give anything back as he takes my hand and shakes it weakly, when I let go his shoulders drop the slightest, his face lowering for a moment "I am Keith" and he looks straight at me.

Wow. It's a male Brooke looking at me but the way he is holding himself and the way he said his name, well, that reminds me of Lucas. There's something condescending about them, disapproving and modest but yet so damn confident, so sure of themselves. I always wanted to knock Lucas off his pedestal, sometimes I felt like I was the only one who saw through him, saw that he wasn't so _good_.

His son reminds me of him even though out of all his children Keith looks the least like Lucas.

Then in the next moment Keith is forced to lean against his pillows and he squeezes his eyes closed. I feel like a dick.

This is a boy, a scared, sick boy who hasn't been living for years, he's dying. This isn't Lucas. This isn't the man-child who held onto Brooke and Peyton's hearts through my relationships with them. I don't hate him, I don't even know him.

But I feel I do.

"Do you need help?" I ask him.

Surprisingly Keith answers me in the way I least expect, "yes, but you don't want to" and then he lifts his legs back around to lie down, "it's okay".

"People tend to do what you say, don't they" it's not really a question. It's a fact. "I'm not here for you. Abby-"

He cuts in "you're different to what I expected. You care about her, don't you?" it's not the most stable of sentences and I get the feeling there's something not quite right about the way he said it. There's a mild amusement in the first part but the second part holds none, there's no surprise, no doubt…

"You know about me" I say, the realisation almost knocking me over.

He kinks a brow, "you're Julian, Abby's lawyer"

"Who you found" I say.

I'm as much Keith's puppet as anyone else.

Anger fills me. Uncontrollable, fierce anger. This kid thinks he can just line us all up to do what he wants. Abby's tears; Abby's frustration, drives me to speak back to this sick kid.

"I have no obligation to you"

"Just Abby" he whispers.

That doesn't stop, "and what about your obligation to Abby"

He shakes his head smiling, both movements are slight, "you wouldn't get it"

"Get what?"

"Family" he says straight to me, looking me in the eye with more knowing, more confidence than most men double his age, "family" he repeats again.

And it's amazing how much that hurts me, how hard that one word hits.

"Love" he adds on, "beats obligation"

From my experience love is obligation. Just look at his sister.

"My sister would do anything for me; I would do anything for her. Your job is to help her, you shouldn't be here"

I could slap him. I don't like this kid. I can't even really explain why.

"You should go" and he has that tone in his shaky voice again.

So I go. I am half way out of the hospital when I turn back determined. I push the door open as soon as I get to it "you know what. You're not just killing yourself, you are killing Abby, you selfish fuck. You want it to end, do it yourself instead of hiding behind your sister because I may not know about family but I know you don't get your kid sister to fight your battles" and I leave. And I swear there's soft laughter behind me as I go.

I punch the elevator wall when the doors close behind me, then I punch it again.

"Damn"

…

An hour of sitting in my car doesn't give me any more answers. Keith's words still go over and over in my head.

Eventually I pick up my phone as I stare out the window at the coffee shop across the road. It rings and rings, and just as I am about to hang up someone picks up, it's a woman. Her voice is sweet and young, it doesn't sound anything like most women I know, it sounds happier, and it sounds free from pain and past mistakes.

"Hello?"

I don't reply. I can't speak. So I hang up. My head hits the seat behind me, I close my eyes.

Breathe Julian.

_My sister would do anything for me; I would do anything for her. Your job is to help her…_

After hitting redial I wait again, this time it's quicker. The voice is more hesitant, "hello?"

After a second I finally get the nerve to answer, "Hi" I wait a beat, "is this Jade?"

"Yes" and then a moment later she says with slight humour, "but you called me, so you've caught me at a disadvantage"

"My name is Julian" I wait for her to say something but the silence is like a loud _and? _Coming from her side, so I take a deep breath "Julian Baker"

"Oh" she says a little loud and then she gives a little laugh, "yes, of course. Julian, I'm Jade"

"Yeah" I smile as I say it. My free hand squeezes the steering wheel, "look, I was wondering if you wanted… to… I don't' know, meet or something?" I flinch as I say it.

The longer it takes for her to answer the more nervous I feel, maybe I made a mistake. And then she finally replies, "really?"

"Yes. I mean I live in North Carolina so I don't know when but yes, really, I want to know you"

"I want to know you too" and I can picture her face smiling like it was in the picture my father had shown me.

"I would like that, I would like that a lot" a tear runs down my cheek but I smile.

Keith was right, I don't really understand family. I've always wanted to and I've tried to, I just never really had a chance.

For most of my life I had to imagine what having a family would be like, sometimes having a broken home, a broken family, when it's just you and two distant parents isn't really like having a family at all.

But now I have chance.

I have a sister.

…

After my father had told me he loved me, words I hadn't heard since my father explained to me that it wasn't my fault that my mother and him were getting a divorce, I knew something had changed. I wasn't going to let him come back into my life with a sob story, he missed out and that's his fault. I don't feel guilty about it.

"And why the sudden need to share this now?" I'd asked him, sure that whatever he said would mean nothing to me.

He'd taken a deep breath, "I wasn't the best husband, you know that-"

"Oh, please Dad, I don't need to hear this. I heard it from Mom enough"

"Let me finish" he was stern but… patient as well. "It's not a secret that I had a few indiscretions during my marriage to your mother _however-" _he said the last word strongly to I didn't interrupt him again, "- what I didn't know is that one of the women I had been involved with had gotten pregnant"

At first I had been angry, angry that he managed to get another child when he didn't deserve any, angry that maybe this other child could be the one I never could be, could get the approval I was desperate for and never got.

"You have a sister, her name is Jade"

"Congratulations Dad" I clapped my hands loudly, a stiff fake smile on my face.

"Don't be like that Julian. When I realised I had a child I never even knew about at first I was angry at her mother but then I had to deal with the anger towards _me_. I had a son, right under my nose, and I lost him. I know that. I know that it's too late to be any type of real father to either of my children but I did, _I do_, love you. And I am proud of everything you've done on your own, I am proud and happy that you're a better man than I could ever be" and he shrugged his shoulders, "I thought you should know" and then he'd left not asking for one single thing.

And the stupid thing is that it wasn't too late, inside I'm still that boy who just wants to know his dad loved him, that he was proud. It's all I've ever wanted. And a little part of me is ashamed that I was happy. I am happy.

…

Another coffee in hand I feel small in these hallways, the courts are like another home to me though today it's like stepping into them for the same time.

I spot Abby sitting with her sister Sawyer where we agreed to meet, "you ready kid?" I ask straight away.

Sawyer looks at me, her head pulling back "are you?" she looks me up and down. Ignoring her I focus on Abby, "you look good" I nod and put a hand on her shoulder as I look around. Is Sam here yet? I don't see her. "Okay" I look back down at Abby, "do me a favour, go to the bathroom, take out the pony tail, and just take a moment to yourself" she looks like a scared ten year old not the brave preteen I know who could pass for fourteen on most days.

Sawyer goes to follow her but I send her a stern look to stay where she is and she shrugs her shoulders and leans back against the wall with her arms crossed.

"_Are _you ready?" she asks. I don't answer her. She shrugs again and then stares at me as I try not to pay attention to her.

After five minutes Sawyer speaks up again, "you sure she'll come back?"

Still looking around for Sam I answer Sawyer blithely "and what if she doesn't?"

"You hoping she'll chicken out?"

"That's not Abby" I say quickly but I am hoping she stands up for herself against her family and everything they want for her, I want to help her do that in a way nobody helped me.

"Do you know what it will do to your sister if she wins?" I finally pay Sawyer attention, "it will crush all the fight left in her. It's who she will be for the rest of her life, and one day she will blame herself as surely as others will. Maybe one day she will blame you too because you went along with it, and she will blame your brother. But she will love you both and because of that she will blame herself the most" I look at her, now giving her the up and down look, "why do you just stand back?"

"Why don't you?" she shoots back looking angry but I don't care. She pushes herself off the wall, "You don't know them, you don't love them, you don't have to choose anything" she gets closer to me, "it's easy for you."

"Maybe it is"

Where silent after that as we wait for Abby to return. When she does I control my expression and I smile at her, not a happy smile, but a supportive one. I can do this.

"You ready kid?" I ask again and this time she nods.

We're ready for this.

Sawyer gives Abby a big hug, kisses the top of her head and whispers something in her ear while holding her sisters cheeks between her hands, and then the blonde walks off.

Abby looks at me then with a hesitant smile.

That idea of holding a life in my hands doesn't seem as overwhelming as it did before, and something inside me almost breaks at the thought.

-x-

_You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,  
She said  
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,_

_She said I think I'll go to Boston..._  
_I think I'll start a new life,_  
_I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,_  
_I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather,_  
_I think I'll get a lover and fly em out to Spain..._  
_I think I'll go to Boston,_  
_I think that I'm just tired_  
_I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind..._  
_I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,_  
_I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,_

_You don't know me, you don't even care..._

_Boston... where no one knows my name... yeah_  
_Where no one knows my name..._  
_Where no one knows my name..._  
_Yeah Boston..._  
_Where no one knows my name._

_-Boston, Augustana_

**boston? is it a strange song choice, finding a song for this chapter was hard. augustana is a love of mine and i dont know why but i just thought this chapter went with it in some strange way.**


	33. Let Her Go

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nothing at all, well maybe my laptop but def not One Tree Hill or My Sisters Keeper. But feel free to give me the rights to OTH if you can, I'll be happy to accept it as a gift.**

**Hey guys, so long time no write and read. Any way I am trying something different and I am doing a youtube channel to go along with my fanfiction page. It will have footage of me replying to reviews, talking about fics, one tree hill, maybe reviews about the books I read and movies I watch, just a way for us to interact and I would love you all to come watch and subscribe. I've posted the first vid to go as an authors note/review reply for this chapter please watch after reading as there are spoilers. And don't forget to review, I'll take anything :P and come meet me and have a chat ****link: add /watch?v=A-rkwSauG-k to youtube dot com. **

_Well you only need the light when it's burning low  
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow  
Only know you love her when you let her go  
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low  
Only hate the road when you're missing home  
Only know you love her when you let her go  
And you let her go_

_Staring at the bottom of your glass_  
_Hoping one day you'll make a dream last_  
_But dreams come slow and they go so fast_  
_You see her when you close your eyes_  
_Maybe one day you'll understand why_  
_Everything you touch surely dies_

_But you only need the light when it's burning low_  
_Only miss the sun when it starts to snow_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_  
_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
_Only hate the road when you're missing home_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_

_Staring at the ceiling in the dark_  
_Same old empty feeling in your heart_  
_'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast_  
_Well you see her when you fall asleep_  
_But never to touch and never to keep_  
_'Cause you loved her too much and you dive too deep_

-x-

Chapter Thirty-Two

*_Lucas*_

Every day my body alarm wakes me up before the sun rises. The room is in shadows, silent and still, Brooke is tangled up with me, her near nude body reaching for every part of me as she sleeps, it's one of my favourite things about waking up. I do not want to move, it always takes me a few minutes to force myself to sneak away from her.

Slowly I slide my leg across and then using my hips I slide a little from under Brooke, she protests, her arm moving higher on my chest and more of her dark hair covers my face as she nudges her head into my neck. My hand rubs her softly but I do not move the arm I have around her, instead I carefully continue to move out from under her.

Eventually I am free though she seems to search for me in her sleep, her hand opening and closing, still with my hand on her I lean down and kiss her cheek.

The cool air starts to get to me and I am conscious that I have left us both exposed so quickly I make sure Brooke is covered and head straight for my jogging clothes. It is going to be cold so I search for my old hoodie from my days working with Keith, after a few minutes of looking for it I find it amongst Brooke's stuff.

No matter how many years go by she always manages to get it back into her possession.

Once dressed I head back to the bed and crawl across it to reach Brooke, "hey, baby" at my voice she slowly starts to stir. Still it is a little longer before she wakes up, "good morning"

"Morning Broody" she mumbles.

I smile, stroking her cheek and then say quietly "I'll be back later. Love you"

Her eyes seem to become more clear, Brooke nods "love you too" and then she adds on "be safe". I know she worries about me, in many ways I am another burden on her conscious, another person she has to wonder if I will come home safely. Brooke does not get involved in my health though, we agreed many years ago that it is one thing she does not have to look after or worry about, and it is my responsibility to look after myself so I can help look after them. It does not mean I cannot see the look in her eyes, and in a way she silently does look after me. With a look she tells me I am pushing myself too hard, with a carefully worded question she reminds me about my appointments and medication without even mentioning them, and with a simple farewell she tells me that I have a home and family to come home to, so I better be able to come home.

After a quick kiss Brooke rolls back over and falls back to sleep, and I head down stairs. Out of habit my mind turns to an old story idea I have been building on for years, in the mornings it tends to always come back to me and one of these days I plan to show Lindsey though it is so far from my normal genre I am hesitant to share it with anyone. Brooke listens to me on long nights, encouraging me to keep exploring this different world but sometimes I wonder if she genuinely enjoys my work or if she just loves me so much that she would listen to me no matter what I say.

A light from the kitchen catches my attention before I make it to the front door so I cut through the house, going backwards to enter the kitchen.

Abby sits on the counter, her legs dangling over and a glass of water in her hands. My daughter is right in front of me however her mind is clearly on the other side of the universe, "what are you doing up?"

Startled Abby jumps, then she gives a crooked smile "couldn't get back to sleep".

For a moment I just stare at her then I step into the room and nudge my head towards the doorway I had been standing in, "come on then, get your runners and a jacket"

Without blinking Abby jumps off the counter, abandoning the glass she starts to run out of the kitchen and I laugh at her enthusiasm.

Instead of idly waiting for Abby I go take care of the bins and walk the trash can down to the sidewalk, when I turn back around Abby is behind me, her long hair now up and off her face and looking ready to run.

"First we warm up" I instruct and the next few minutes are filled with her copying my stretches carefully, biting her bottom lip as she concentrates. Abby takes her sport seriously, she takes everything seriously, and the others say she gets it from me. I would never admit this aloud, she reminds me of Nathan more. That big heart, the way she pushes herself and carries others expectations on her shoulders. Nathan was the little brother denied to me for too long, already grown by the time we were able create our bond, in the end though he is my little brother and seeing him in my daughter is something I smile about, something I cherish.

I am still smiling at Abby and doing stretches when she suddenly starts running, "Abra Victoria" I chasten her yet quickly follow her retreating feet and laughter. Around the corner she finally stops her sprint and settles into a steady jog with me by her side.

And then like most mornings I am lost to the beating of my heart, the pumping of my limbs, and the world becomes my music in the absence of my iPod. Everything disappears, the ground might as well be air, and my mind clears.

There must be a smile on my face though I am only in the present enough to check for Abby and that the roads are clear every time I come to a crossing. This is peace, this is freedom and clarity.

My problems never seem as big when I am running; it is as if everything has a clear destination and path towards it.

We jog by Brooke's store and keep going, Abby takes lead eventually and soon I know where she is going, it is the same instinctive path I would jog in my youth, oh so long ago. Then again I find myself there often even now.

When we are close Abby's speed increases and she's sprinting again, the girl has more energy than all of us combined, and soon I am watching her in the distance, a speck on the horizon as she reaches the asphalt. By the time I reach her Abby has pulled a basketball out of god knows where and is practicing her dribbling, I sneak up by her and steal the ball right from under her, with a burst of energy I go down the court and slam the ball straight into the hoop, as I turn around Abby is catching the rebound and quickly throws it up and back through.

An informal one on one game begins. It is like playing tag on the court and her speed and agility makes up for Abby's inexperience and current lack of height. She is a tall girl for her age and can easily be believed fourteen, not that it is easy to see my little girl grow up.

I still remember her high blonde piggies and the gaps in her smile from when she was younger, the way she would poke her tongue out when she was concentrating on whatever she was doing at the table, how her eyes would light up and she would stop whatever she was doing to jump into my arms whenever I came home. I remember late nights reading Harry Potter when she could not sleep, and sneaking down for hot chocolate when she woke up from a nightmare. There were many nights when she would crawl into bed between Brooke and I, and sometimes we would not even know til we woke in the morning to find her still dreaming between us. Abby never liked admitting when she was scared or upset, one day she was a little girl who would come to us to make everything better and then the next she was a stoic, brave thing who would take our comfort but never admit she needed it. We knew though, once upon a time we use to know when she needed us even if we did not understand why.

The sky gives a loud cry and we both look up, "we better head home before it starts to rain" I pat her back and wonder how I will cope with the walk home, my body is awake and tired all at the same time. Abby must read my mind because she gives me a sideways look, "We could, you know, call Mom to pick us up"

"That might be a good idea" I nod and retrieve my phone. While I hit one on my speed dial and wait for Brooke to answer Abby goes to sit at one of the picnic tables.

"Hey" I greet when Brooke answers her phone.

With a grumble she says, "You better be dying" and I laugh.

"It has to be at least seven by now"

"Not quite. What's wrong?"

I watch Abby lying across the bench and turn my back to her, my head to the sky I answer Brooke, "nothing is wrong. I was just hoping you could pick me and Abby up from the river court. We're beat and it looks like it might rain"

There is silence before Brooke makes a sound and I wait a moment before asking "is that a yes?"

"Yes… I'll be there in a minute"

"Okay. Love you babe"

"Love you too" she finishes before hanging up.

I have seen other marriages dissolve slowly after years, or not so much dissolve yet settle, where the emotions have dulled and the husband and wife become two people living together, working together and parenting together, yet not really _together_. They lose sight of themselves in their relationship.

Brooke and I still think of each other, think about us as a couple not just parents or a survival unit. We get angry, we fight, we stop talking sometimes, we get passionate and happy and sometimes with just a look we are stripping each other naked. It comes easy though it is never just easy; no day is _easy_, no day just happens without strong emotion. I love her every day and I feel loved by her every day, sometimes it does feel like I am walking on egg shells, some days I still feel like I have to prove it all to her.

Maybe that is why we have lasted so long, maybe that is why the passion and wonder is still inside us, and our feelings are stronger yet still have that _oomph, _that sparkle that is usually reserved for the early times, the freshness of a relationship, marriage or new family. Perhaps the occasional insecurity keeps us on our toes.

My wife still catches me by surprise.

"Abby, Mom's on her way" I say to my daughter as I turn back to her, placing my cell away as I do so, "do you want one last game?"

There is no answer.

Abby is fast asleep I discover on moving closer to her, her head is resting on her arms, her eyes closed, her breathing a slow steady pattern. She makes me smile, her beauty that shines from the inside out, how innocent and young she looks. My little girl is still here, she will always be somewhere inside this growing woman.

…

The minivan slowly makes its way straight towards us, I motion for Brooke to come up onto the grass and I see her nod. While she parks I gently pick a still sleeping Abby up and her head rolls on my shoulder, a little snore coming out. By the time I look back up Brooke has gotten out of the car and is opening the back door for me, she then helps me lower Abby in, "I can't believe you jogged her all the way here"

"It was her idea" I whisper back and click the seatbelt into place, for a second Abby's eyes flatter open but then she relaxes into her new position and goes back to sleep.

We stand back from the car and Brooke closes the door, and then we are looking at each other. She gives a little smile, and I step forward to give her a quick peck just as the sky breaks open and a weak shower of rain drips onto us.

"One more" she brings me back to her for another kiss before pushing away, "come on, we have a big day" her smile is shaky for a moment before her face relaxes.

Today is the day.

…

The look on Abby's face almost stops me from waking her, yet all things must come to an end and regretfully I shake Abby's shoulder, "honey, let's get you inside"

There is no fuss to it, Abby wakes up and when I repeat it she nods and starts to get out of the car herself. Brooke has the door open for us and I have my hand on Abby's shoulder as I follow her inside.

Most of the house is dark though a soft glow is coming from the back of the house, Brooke heads towards it and Abby and I follow her towards the kitchen. The more we walk the slower Abby gets, and by the time we make it to the kitchen Sawyer and Brooke are already talking.

Sitting on the counter Sawyer has a cup of coffee in her hands and she looks better than she has in a long time, "morning Dad"

"Morning Sawyer" I nod to my oldest daughter but squeeze Abby's shoulder and quickly address her, "you should probably get back to bed"

"Or…" Sawyer drawls in the way that reminds me of Peyton, "she could eat"

For a second Abby's eyes light up, "who's cooking?" and Brooke chuckles at the question, hiding her face behind her giant mug. Brooke tends to plate delicious meals as long as she keeps to a recipe, I can cook meat to perfection and make a mean pasta, Abby is the baker of the family but Sawyer…

She is very good with most hands on practical things so I have no concern for her when she moves out into a place of her own. On the other hand when it comes to the kitchen my oldest daughter is completely out of her depth, maybe one day she'll master how to use any of the appliances that aren't the coffee machine.

With a sharp "Hey" Sawyer clunks her mug down and jumps off the counter, "even I can't screw up toast"

There is a long moment of silence and Brooke is still hiding her face, eventually Abby stumbles out "I think… I'll… um… just go back to bed" and she sheepishly scratches her head.

Brooke perks up, "toast sounds good" and she kinks her brow in my direction. It feels like she mentally just kicked me in the shins, "oh yeah, I'm starving, thanks Princess" and I try to keep a straight face. As soon as Sawyer turns her back to us trying to find the toaster I send Brooke a look and shake my head.

After rolling her eyes Brooke goes to help Sawyer and Abby sneaks off to get some more sleep, she looks so tired I cannot help but let her go.

…

My fingers fumble with the tie around my neck, "jesus" the curse slips from me as I look from the reflection in the mirror to the mess just in sight of me, "why is this so complicated?" I ask no one.

"Just relax"

Brooke's voice startles me but before I can really react she is right behind me, her warmth at my back, hands on my shoulder she gently turns me around and then takes the tie from between my two hands, "I remember the first time I did this for you"

My eyes close as I lift my neck to make it easier for her, "Keith's funeral" I remember.

Soon she smooths my collar down and runs her hands down my chest, with a playful tug of the tie she has a tilt to her voice, "all done. You look handsome, Lucas Scott"

I open my eyes, "Thank you, Mrs Scott"

"You're welcome" she whispers with her hands still holding my tie, then after a few seconds of looking at each other Sawyer's yells from somewhere in the house breaks our silence and Brooke runs her hands down my shirt before stepping away from me and looking down.

A nervous breath leaves me.

When I realise Brooke is about to leave the room I quickly reach for her hand and bring her back around, her hair bounces as wide eyes look at me with a question in them. I try to smile and appear relaxed though I know my smile must be crooked "no matter what happens, we're going to be okay"

She stares at me some more and then she gives a quick, hard nod and I pull her into my arms, wrapping mine around her I place my chin on the top of her head.

We're going to be okay, somehow we will make it through this, and it may take a long time, even years, but our family will be okay.

…

The morning seems to move in patches, time gets away from us all, and sometimes it feels like any other normal morning while other moments feel like something from a dream.

Sawyer is the last one to be ready, coming out of the bathroom in just her towel as if time is of no importance to her. I shake my head as I walk further down the hall and knock on Abby's door, after waiting a moment too long I step away and drop my hand.

"Abby?"

The door opens easily and I look inside her empty room, the second I know she is not in her room I close her door again and head for Keith's. Sure enough my youngest is sitting neatly on Keith's bed, her eyes looking up at the ceiling.

I lean against the doorway and interrupt her as gently as I can, "your Mom wants to know if you're hungry yet?"

At first she gave a startled jump and then Abby gives me closed lipped smile that causes her one dimple to appear deeply, "I'm good"

"You sure?"

She only nods and looks at me with her big eyes. I wait, unable to move away from my daughter, eventually I try to relax and then I step into the room. This new Abby puts me at a loss, I no longer know where I stand; I have lost my footing with her. Always the easiest, and now she seems the hardest.

For a while earlier I almost felt like I could understand her, it was just the two of us like so many other mornings, and then I see her with the dear caught in headlights look and I just don't know what to do.

Do I comfort her or the rest of us?

Moving closer I sink my hands into my pockets to prevent myself from ripping of the tie that feels like it is about to strangle me, though I know it is not the tie that threatens to strangle me but the very air I breathe. It is our life. The very thing that keeps me alive also is on the brink of destroying me, all meaning vanishes, yet one thing stays the same. I have been passive for so long, and I need to fight for what I want, what I need. That is how I keep my family, my life, because I cannot lose them again. I have to fight for my daughter. Perhaps a few weeks ago I wouldn't have said anything, this morning I speak.

"It's alright if you're nervous"

Abby gives me that smile again and then it slowly gets a bit bigger, it does look nervous, almost like she is keeping something inside in her that is waiting to burst out and she must control it, that smile fades again, "I feel a little sick"

Well, Abra Victoria, so do I.

"Maybe if you ate something" I start and she rolls her eyes. I can tell she is not coping, we all go through that at different times yet we still have to keep on living, we still need to wake up every morning and force ourselves to eat and drink and go out. Gaining closer I reach Abby and touch her shoulder, "come on, let's get out of here"

"Dad" she says abruptly.

My answer is immediate, "yeah?"

For a second she just looks at me and then she shakes her head, "nothing. Is there any breakfast left?"

"There's an omelette with your name on it"

She jumps off Keith's bed and practically runs out, however Abby stops just before she leaves the room and turns back to me. I had started to follow her.

After flashing me a nervous half smile Abby lets out a "thanks Dad" and then quickly turns back around and starts jogging away. Maybe there is hope that we will make it through whatever happens, maybe finding our way will be easier than we thought.

Alone I stare at the empty doorway and then I sigh and look around the room, Keith's room, and it suddenly feels more empty than ever before even though it is so full of so many of my sons belongings. I hate this knot in my stomach but I love all my children, I love them more than I ever could have imagined even with any imperfections.

Before you have children you know you will love them, that they will be the most important people in your life, though it is not until you have held their small bodies in your arms, gone through life with them, fall in love with them, that you realise just how far you would go to make them happy, how much of yourself you give to and for them. You really do think you would do anything for your child, and when you can't…

When it is one child or the other? Maybe others would judge our family, and something in me rebels at the idea that an outsider would unfairly judge my children. As heartbreaking as this all is, as confusing and hard, I do not hate or blame Abby, I cannot find it inside myself to feel that way about my daughter. I will admit I was shocked when it all first started, and for a brief moment I was angry at the situation, though deep in my heart I believe a part of me understood her and where she was coming from. She is still only a child.

And then there are those who judge Brooke and I, as if they have the right to, and I would love to put to them what they would do if it was their child dying, if they who profess to know what love is for your child, would sit back and not do anything to help save their son or daughter. And some even say we should never have had Abby, they speak of her rights in one sentence and then in the next begrudge her very existence. My Abby, one of the sweetest and kindest girls out there, should never have been born? What a shame that would have been. Do they even realise what they are implying, that not only should we have not tried to save our sons life but also denied our daughter hers, just what regret both of our children being alive. It is naïve and borderline crazy, it angers me.

I do not regret any of my children, what I do regret sometimes is that Brooke's and my success has made the media far more interested in our family than they should be. I like to think we are normal, not to different from everyone else's family, and then the camera flashes.

…

With my arms around Brooke and Sawyer on my other side supporting Abby, we make our way to the car. We all have sunglasses on not because of the weather, which is dark and gloomy, but to protect our faces from the vultures that are already circling us. Paparazzi waiting by the road, a few even on our property, the flashbulbs go off, the questions are being yelled at us, all our heads remain straight faced, we stand united, yet I cannot help but feel we must look like we are on our way to a funeral.

The car is unlocked with a press of the button and we block our children as they get into the back then I open the door for Brooke and help her in, she looks professional and mature in her dark grey dress and heels, she almost trips hopping in and I steady her as she carefully lifts herself into the car, "thanks" she whispers. Closing the door I quickly jog to the driver's side.

"Mr Scott, how do you feel about what your daughter is doing?"

"Scott, Scott! Is it true you have paid the hospital to turn a blind eye to your daughter's refusal?"

"Is your son aware of the trial today?"

A few seconds is all it takes for them to bombard me; I ignore the voices as I get in and close myself off from the rest of the world. Without pause I start up the car and reverse straight out, not caring about the bodies that quickly have to jump out of the way.

Soon entering the court house is just as hectic, if not more so, though once through the doors we finally get some peace and quiet.

"Everyone okay?" Brooke asks.

I nod with my hands on my hips as I try to relax my body, Sawyer gives a quick yeah, and then I hear Brooke again, "Abby?"

A second after I see Abby give a nod and Brooke quickly brings her in for a hug and kisses her cheek before whispering something into her ear.

Abby nods again.

Seconds later our lawyer comes to get Brooke and I, "stay with your sister" I tell the girls and then we're gone.

It seems like I blink and then it has all started.

The thing is I do not even really listen, there's nothing these doctors, these experts, can say that I am not already aware of. I never said our decisions were easy, I never said the situation was pretty.

The faces on the witness stand changes, some I recognise while others are strangers. Edward was the first; I guess that is appropriate seeing it was with his words all this started. Candice seems conflicted on stand and for a while I pay attention. I only half listen to the so called child psychologist who Julian was using as one of his witnesses, she doesn't even know Abby, how can her opinion even count.

I find Sam the most interesting, she has not known Abby for long yet she talks about Abby as if she has known her for years, then again Sam has always been astute. Her words are careful yet her opinions seem ambiguous to the case. When Julian asks her bluntly what she believes is in the best interest of Abby, Sam lifts her chin.

"In my believe, from my observations, it is in Abby's best interest that she be a part of the decisions concerning her body. That she holds an understanding and intellect to be able to choose for herself and for anyone to deny her that right would be a sacrilege"

There is a look that passes between Julian and Sam and then I see Julian briefly glance at Abby, my daughter seems to glare at him for a second before he finishes his line of questioning.

With my hand on Brooke's knee I look for Abby again.

And there my daughter is sitting still on the other side of the room, Julian standing next to her at the moment, she faces straight ahead though her eyes are put of focus and I know just like me she is somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

Perhaps she is in a place she needs to be, where we need to let her be.

Her name is called.

Abby walks quickly to the stand, Julian helping quietly, and I am grateful for the other man for a second, just a second.

And then I realise something. Despite how this ends I have been looking at my daughter wrong, Abby has not suddenly changed, years of connection and understanding have not disappeared.

Something feels wrong, looks wrong, I frown. Nothing about this makes sense. Abby smiles on the stand, and I know that smile, I have seen that smile a million times.

That is her _I-don't-like-this-but-I-will-do-it-for-you_ smile.

Not knowing what to do I turn to face Brooke and she is staring at Abby with such thought on her face.

I cannot speak as the first question is asked, I do not even hear the words, I see Abby's lips begin to move, see the slight shake to her shoulders, the way her hands are hidden and I know, I just know she is twiddling her fingers together.

Brooke gives a small gasp, I can feel it, yet in the same split second someone yells, Abby freezes.

The whole world stops.

-x-

_Well you only need the light when it's burning low  
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow  
Only know you love her when you let her go  
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low  
Only hate the road when you're missing home  
Only know you love her when you let her go  
And you let her go  
Oh oh oh no  
And you let her go  
Oh oh oh no  
Well you let her go_

_'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low_  
_Only miss the sun when it starts to snow_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_  
_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
_Only hate the road when you're missing home_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_

_'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low_  
_Only miss the sun when it starts to snow_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_  
_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
_Only hate the road when you're missing home_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_  
_And you let her go_

- Let Her Go, _Passenger_

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	34. Off I Go

**Disclaimer: once again repeating myself. I do not own anything! Even the habit of not updating… that's a shared thing.**

**Authors note: okay so my youtube thing has failed 'caus for some reason it won't allow me into my account. So I'm back to classic replies. Will once again share my disappointment with reviews, if people can share with me disappointment about my updating then I can share my feelings about the lack of a much easier action of reviewing. This story is only a few chapters til the end. Two of which are already written. **

**I'm going to thank anonymous reviewers and followers, and will reply to registered reviews privately. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and it keeps you going til the next. :) **

_Loose ends, they tangle down  
And then take flight  
But never tie me down  
Never tie me down_

_Loose ends, they tangle down_  
_And then take flight_  
_But never tie me down_  
_But never tie me down_

_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_  
_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_

_Loose ends tangle down_  
_And then take flight_  
_But never tie us_  
_They never tie us down_

-x-

Chapter Thirty Three

_*Keith*_

Most children are afraid of the dark, like most humans, no matter their age, are afraid of the unknown. The idea of fate, destiny, the idea that everything happens for a reason, is a way to cope with the unknown, to take away our responsibility and explain those things we can't explain.

Because it is the things that we do not know, that we can't explain, that are the hardest to handle.

For as long as I can remember I have had to deal with uncertainty, before I even knew what death was I had to survive it, fight it, watch it chip away at my family. Day to day we never knew how things would go, if I would live through it. They couldn't explain death for me, no one had a real answer to that one. Over the years I've searched, since I seem to face it every day I thought I should know what I am in for.

Is it an eternal darkness or another life on earth, does a part of me haunt this world as a ghost or do I go to heaven, or hell? Am I simply a billion atoms who will become a part of the rest of the world, I will be breathed in, given birth to again, walked on, a part of me will be carried by everyone I have ever touched, there will be plants that carry a piece of me, animals of many species, and thousands of years in the future the pieces that make me up will still exist, my energy will still walk this earth and be part of this earth.

I guess we try to explain life and death to find comfort, to still the fear. I think too much, question too much, to believe one true thing as the absolute answer and find little comfort in the different theories. How do we the living possibly know what happens after death?

And truthfully what does it matter, I will only care while I am alive, once I am dead it won't matter anymore and in the end we all die. It is just a question of when and how.

I won't lie that sometimes it doesn't scare me, or that I want to die. Sometimes though I am not sure why I am living. I am tired of fighting the inevitable; of watching others fight it for me.

It's like we're all hitting our head against a brick wall. In the end it just hurts.

Everything hurts, my head hurts, my body hurts, and my soul hurts. Pain is every day, every moment, every laugh and dream I have ever had. The uncertainty of life and death is all I have known for as long as I can remember and there was a time when I believed it would be over, that this would be the last time.

Then another year went by, and another, and another, and I look around and I wonder if this life is worth everything it has cost.

As a child you believe so easily what adults tell you, when your parents say it's going to be okay, when doctors tell you they can help, you believe it all.

But eventually all children grow up and stop believing.

I was eight.

That was how old I was when I stopped believing. It was Christmas and I was in hospital, I overheard Mom and Aunt Haley talking about Christmas presents, and discovered that Santa wasn't real. I guess a part of me must have expected it because I wasn't really shocked, but still… it was like a part of me just gave up. And when on Christmas morning I was given everything on the list I had written for Santa and Dad told me I had to write a thank you letter a part of the dam inside me broke.

And that's when I knew I couldn't believe that I was going to be okay, and every year since and every new complication has reinforced that life is too out of control to be in anyone's control.

I wrote the thank you letter though, and the next year when Mom got me to write my letter to Santa I only asked for one thing. To get rid of the cancer. And I knew by her face and the way she had to stop herself from crying that she knew, Mom knew I know longer believed.

This though, this I can control.

So much planning, so much careful thinking, timing was important, and now it was happening.

It is strange though how fate did seem to play a part, perhaps there's more to life than I thought, because I was given all the players, I just had to line them up.

When I found the box a lot of the answers I needed were given, without the manuscript for the Ravens sequel I wouldn't know the information I needed. I wouldn't have known about Sam and Julian.

Fate gave them to me, and they did exactly what I needed them to do.

Allie wasn't what I expected. I never wanted her to be dragged into this, causing more pain for her when this is all about bringing the pain to an end. I am too selfish to regret it though, too selfish to not want every second I can have with her and I almost hate myself for it.

How easy it all was is like a sign that what I am doing is right, and the rapid deterioration of my condition only strengthens that belief.

My father once wrote, long before my illness poisoned our lives, that the universe gives us signs and it is only by fortune that we interpret them right or wrong.

But it is inevitable that we fall.

…

The light blinks to life and I can see the glow even with my lids closed, today is a relatively good day, only eight on the pain scale.

"I hate when you sit in the dark" Allie mumbles. I smile. I can feel her coming closer, her presence is heavy in the room and I know her hand is coming to rest on my cheek a few seconds before I feel her soft touch. She runs her fingers down my face and then covers my hand gently, "where you at?"

"Six" I answer.

She sighs, "better than yesterday"

I open one eye and try to smile on the outside, "I know why you're here" I say, talking is easier today. My throat isn't as sore, my head is clearer and I feel energy inside me.

"Then you shouldn't complain" she says and leaves me to pull her chair closer to sit right next to me so she is close enough to touch.

The chair scrapes and the door opens once again, one of my nurses, the youngest Heidi, walks in and quickly checks me over, she asks too many embarrassing questions for my liking and I try not to look at Allie.

"How is the pain today?"

"Six" I answer Heidi the same as I had Allie.

My girlfriend grumbles and I see her shaking her head, she grabs my hand again and looks at the nurse, "which means eight"

"Let's see what we can do about that" and there is that nurse smile I get so often.

There's not much they can do for the pain, it's everywhere inside me, the only thing they can really do is put me into a forced sleep; any medication that they could give me to help would only do that anyway.

I would prefer to be in pain and awake, than at peace asleep. I might as well already be dead.

That is what I told Ty when he asked me why I wanted to die. I told him that with the life I was living I might as well already be dead. My cousin didn't like that, it only made him angrier.

"What about us?" he'd said, "do we mean nothing to you?"

They mean everything. But I realised that it couldn't be all or none of us, because it was never meant to be all of us. And I am not dragging them all down with me.

I appreciate that my family love me and that they fight so hard for me, I understand the anger they feel at my situation and at the thought that I may die. I would not know how I would cope if it was one of them in this hospital bed instead of me.

Allie and Heidi are talking about me, "I am here, you know" I say, reminding them both I can speak for myself.

"Yes" Allie whispers and kisses my hand, "but we all know what a great liar you are"

The nurse chuckles and leaves the room, it won't be long until another one is back. I turn my head slowly to Allie, "can you turn the light back off now?"

"No"

It is my turn to sigh, "I like the darkness, besides these walls are too boring"

"Well, deal with it. It's weird you in the dark by yourself" she gives a little shiver and her copper hair falls over her face. I like her hair now, with no traces of the black she use to dye it. Then she retrieves her bag and is distracted as she pulls her laptop from it, "besides I need to do some homework"

"What class?" I ask trying to seem uninterested though I miss the distraction of school work, Allie smiles at my interest. I am sure she sees straight through me, I always use to help with her homework when I finished my own work.

She looks up at me from the side of her eyes, "English" she smiles.

"You can leave the light on I guess"

"You didn't really have a choice in that" Allie replies and sets her station up close to me, she puts her laptop on her lap but the angle allows me to see the screen, it loads to reveal an old picture of the whole gang down at the river. It feels like years ago. "So-" Ally adds on "- you'll never believe what book they assigned us" she only waits two seconds before telling me, rolling her eyes just before she turns to look at me as she says it "An Unkindness of Ravens by Lucas Scott"

I can't help but chuckle. It is a bad time to suddenly become so tired, "really?"

"Yeah"

"You read it yet?"

"Most of it. And can I just say… wow your mom, I would have never guessed" she shakes her head, "I don't know if I can look her in the eye ever again"

I try not to laugh. It's only a testament to my mother that she has come so far, "in the first draft she was worse, Dad toned her down a little"

"There's a first draft?"

"There always is. It's very similar, longer, more development for some of the background characters, a bit more emotionally hectic"

She gives me a knowing look, "does your dad know you've read the original?"

"Yes, he was the one who gave it to me after I read the published version; he told me I deserved more of the truth. A lot of my parents relationship was changed or cut out of the final version for continuity, seeing she wasn't the girl he ended with"

"It played out different in the real world"

I shrug, "A long time after, though" I want to change the subject. My enthusiasm for helping Allie has lessened knowing what novel she had to work on.

There is silence as I close my eyes and don't say anything else, the clicking of the computer keys blends in perfectly with the equipment in my room.

Eventually her typing stops and I open one eye to find Allie looking at me, "it's a classic coming of age story. The five main characters, Lucas, Nathan, Haley, Peyton and Brooke, are all stuck in roles society or their families have placed them in, though there's romance it's really about five teenagers, mainly your father, bashing the box they've been put into down, growing from who others and even themselves think they should be to discover who they really are"

"Bingo" I smile.

She frowns, "how come all coming of age stories have to have a tragedy?"

"It wasn't just a story, it was life, and life isn't perfect. Death goes hand and hand with it sometimes"

She shrugs, her nose scrunching, "ok, I get that, I _really _do. But looking at all the other kids at school, I don't think many of them are gonna graduate high school having had someone die"

Allie has always been frank.

I lift my shoulder in approval and think what to say for a few seconds, and then I speak, "but how many of them will become adults unscathed, a tragedy doesn't have to be death, something profoundly life changing can sometimes be simple, sometimes it's not, and it doesn't mean they wear it for the world to see. And how many people don't really discover who they are until they're adults already?"

"I wonder how many people never truly do" she stops, "I wonder if they even know it"

My mind flashes back to a scene in my father's first book, one that was left completely unchanged in the published version.

_You know who you are. Most people don't. You know, I mean, that's why they lie, they are afraid people are going to find out who they are before they figure it out themselves. _

It was the night my father realised he had been falling in love with my mother.

"But in the end people can change anyway" Allie says and looks back to her laptop, "you know you were willing to help me til you found out the book"

I try to smile but I am starting to feel exhausted, "that would be cheating"

"Cheating would be asking your dad for help" she mutters under her breath and starts typing again, her hair falling over her face as she does so.

I'm not sure when it happens all I know is suddenly I am opening my eyes and the room is a lot brighter, Allie is not in her seat anymore and over an hour has gone by.

Carefully I lift my bed up so I am sitting with my back at a forty-five degree angle. The door is open and the sounds of my floor are reaching me, a doctor gets paged, a cart goes by and I sit staring at the doorway for a few minutes. Eventually I look to my side and reach for the notebook and pen I have there, flicking through the pages I go to the last page, the one I wrote in during the night after my mother left.

They tend to come one at a time, it makes me question if they have a secret schedule so I am not alone for too long. Dad, Mom and the girls usually show up before school, then Dad comes straight after school, Abby is next and Sawyer tends to overlap her and stays a little after, Mom comes in at night as well as around lunch time or just before school finishes. Uncle Nathan pops in before midday, Aunt Haley usually appears not long after Dad with Ty, and sometimes Ty will come see me after Sawyer. Allie pops in and out, if there is a schedule she doesn't abide by it. My cousin Jamie calls me every other day and he visits on the weekends. Gran and Lil tend to come with either Mom or Dad. Other family friends usually stop by around five or before lunch on weekends.

I equally love and had the company, today I am going to appreciate the quiet while I can and miss them all at the same time.

"You're awake" at the voice I look up and Allie is in the doorway, she has on a big smile and is holding a can of coke and a sandwich, "we thought you would be asleep for another ten, do you want me to arrange for your lunch?"

"No I'm good"

"I'm starving" she says back and returns to her seat, slowly behind her Ty follows, he goes to the other side of me and leans against a bench. My cousin's eyes look slightly red and his face is down, I don't remember the last time he smiled and Ty was always a smiler, always the odd one out of our group. He's creative and confident and easy, he's light and happy and optimistic. Ty has music coursing through his body, in his blood, in his skin and soul, like the rest of the men in the family have sports.

…

"Let's go" I had whispered to Ty when I was seven years old, at eight he towered above me, all arms and legs and broad shoulders with a few freckles that have long faded now.

Even then he'd stared at me hesitant, eyes looking around for the parents, "we'll get in trouble"

"No we won't"

Sawyer had snuck up on us, "what you doing?" she'd yelled jumping out from behind the tree, I had laughed and Ty had jumped.

With a smile I grabbed Sawyer's hand, "Ty has a secret hideout"

"Keith! Do you know what it's a secret means?"

Sawyer had scoffed, "we have no secrets"

I knew Sawyer would be on my side, "tell him to show us, Sawyer" I begged and my sister and cousin had started staring at each other. Eventually Ty just sighed and got up, "fine, okay"

And then he put his hand to his head when Abby appeared and asked if she could come.

Sawyer grinned, her usual cheeky smile on her face "come on, Mom and Dad are totally distracting your parents"

And that's how the four of us found ourselves in our spot by the river, back then Ty had a sheet set up like a tent and a chest full of all the food Aunt Haley hated him eating. We'd gotten lost in our games that we didn't remember to pay attention to the time and when we snuck back into the yard our parents had been frantic. Mom was in tears, Aunt Haley's face was pale, and our fathers were furious, Dad had practically shaken Sawyer telling her off for not looking after us kids and Uncle Nathan had given Ty a lecture about protecting Abby and me, that we were littler than him. Sawyer had ended up in tears too. But none of us was sorry.

We'd had too much fun and nothing bad had happened, but ever since that day Ty has taken his job too seriously, as if he'd let everyone down, and as soon as any of us could be in danger he turns into serious Tyler.

…

My eyes flicker back down to the notebook in my hand. The final phase in my plan, while Allie starts to eat I carefully rip out the page. Slowly, with precise folding, I can't help myself, I turn the page into a neat rectangle and hold it out into the air.

"I have something for you"

Allie looks up at my words but Ty remains facing the floor, the room is silent and I see Allie looking at me with a question in her eyes, her mouth still full.

Eventually when nothing else is said Ty finally lifts his eyes to me and then to the paper I am holding out to him, I shake it lightly and Ty pushes off the bench.

He looks at it as if I am holding out a bomb to him, "for me?"

"Hmm" I agree and stretch it out further, already leaning my back down against the pillow.

Quickly Ty snatches it from my hand and goes back to his position, his dark thick eyebrows are furrowed as he unfolds the letter, because what else can it be and I see his eyes scanning from side to side as he reads it.

As we watch Ty must read it at least three times before he finally looks up, his eyes so wide and looking bluer than I have ever seen them. He brushes his loose hair back off his face and it falls straight back into place as he releases a breath, "seriously?"

I smile, "all or none. That's the saying right"

His mouth falls open then closes then opens again, he rubs his jaw, bites his lip and then looks at the letter again. With more care Ty folds it back into place, "and what do you want me to do with this?" and those pale blue eyes are back on me.

The tension in the room is palpable, I can feel is humming between all three of us, and so I close my eyes for a brief second to get away from those knowing eyes, those fast working eyes, I smile slowly and open my eyes and reply, "whatever you want… I would hurry though"

Before I had even finish Ty was already leaving the room, he stopped at the door but seemed to reconsider and then I could hear his feet thumping away as he ran towards the elevator. It's just me and Allie now and I can feel her eyes on me, so I look at her and she takes another bite of her sandwich, chews a few times before swallowing and I continue to wait.

After a sip of her drink Allie finally asks me, "what was that about?"

"My letter"

"You're a man of few words" she kinks her brow, she has spent too much time with the women of my family.

I sigh, "Ty didn't think it was fair-" she coughed interrupting me so I change what I was going to say, "okay, you guys didn't think it was fair. Making Abby do it. That was just the first phase, getting her to speak up, now it's my turn"

"And you couldn't tell us that why?" her voice is calm but shows her confusion, and I'll admit a bit of frustration.

"Abby… she wouldn't have agreed. I couldn't just say no to her, or any of them, they needed the time, to think and adjust, to understand how I feel, how they feel" free from painkillers my brain feels good, though I'm in pain I am wide awake at the moment and everything is clear.

It is easier.

Maybe it's because I know it'll all be over soon.

"It's not going to make it easier" Allie says with a hard tone.

"But what are the courts going to agree to more, a thirteen year old girl requesting not to be forced to give up a kidney, or a sick sixteen year old boy asking to die" I had thought about this, thought about my chances of fighting for medical emancipation on my own rights. Abby had a better chance. It's as simple as that.

A tear runs down Allie's cheek, "I wish you didn't say it like that, like you want to die" she whispers.

"I don't want to die" I tell her a strongly as I can, "I _am_ dying… I want the right to live my life instead of fighting my death" I shake my head, "I told you this. I told you I'm dying, if not now it will happen eventually, I didn't want you to watch and if you can't…"

"No, no, no, I'm not going anywhere" her hand grabs mine, her head burying into my arm, "I just want some hope"

All I can offer is time, limited time, and do my best to give everything to what we have left.

So I hug her, I hug her with all that is in me.

…

Waiting is like breathing for me and by the time I hear more running feet I am more than ready to face my future, and I know with each step closer who is running towards me, I know what face I will see bursting through the door.

I hear a nurse yelling that there's no running and I lean up, feeling slightly impatient, and then Abby is there in the door way.

We stare at each other not speaking, it's Allie who eventually cuts into the silence, she stands and asks what we're all thinking about, "what happened?"

Then Abby steps forward, slower, more patient now, her eyes never leave me. Though I smile she does not smile back, she looks blank, fearful, scared, nervous, so many emotions and none at the same time. For a second I think I glimpse happiness in her eyes.

I can hear the voices down the hall, signalling the rest of the family will be here soon.

"Abs?" I ask, years of patience running thin, it's as if I can't breathe.

Her mouth cracks, she takes another step forward.

Then my sister answers us.

"We won the case. They gave me medical emancipation"

…

It is inevitable that we fall, as sure as the sun will sink beyond the horizon, for the brightest, most powerful, most beautiful are only glimpsed for a brief time before they are snuffed out. It's inevitable, like day stealing the stars from the skies. Yet, the sun rises the next day, the stars twinkle on display another night, and new flames are lit. A light, a bright spot, shares itself for a brief time before it is gone, but there will be another. Life is full of gifts, of miracles, and at every turn there is another, all we have to do is look.

-x-

_Loose ends tangle down  
And then take flight  
But never tie us down  
But never tie us down_

_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_  
_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_

_Ohhhh_

_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_  
_Off I go_  
_Where I fall is where I land_

- Off I Go, _Greg Laswell_

**Next chapter: Abby**


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